


A Long Way From Here

by PlotQueen



Category: Sonny with a Chance
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Offscreen character death, Trust Issues, and the spin off show never existed, car accident trauma, ignores almost all of cannon show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-18
Updated: 2010-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-15 19:59:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 68,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/531137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlotQueen/pseuds/PlotQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Sonny ever expected was to be starting back at the bottom in New York City. But when the chance to revive her career falls into her lap, she finds that the strings attached to it are the past she spent years trying to forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I don’t know, Coop. Some of these names are pretty public eye. We don’t really have that kind of money in the budget.” Owen Reynolds told Chad as he pushed one of the many lists currently cluttering the tabletop back to the other man.

Chad glanced at the list Owen had passed him, his eyes skimming the actresses who'd been suggested for the part. His eyes nearly bugged out at some of them. Nicole Kidman? Charlize Theron? _Who was Natalie kidding?_ Chad asked himself. There was no way such big name actresses would even think of signing on at the rates he and Owen were offering, much less happily slave away on what was best termed an indie film. It was all he could do to keep from laughing.

“Well, Natalie Portman's been known to do some low budget stuff,” he offered, his eyes lighting on that name. “And I think Scarlet said she was between projects. But I don't think this is something she'd be looking for right now. I heard she was being considered for the next Spielberg film.”

“Do you really think Scarlet Johansson would say yes to this?” Owen asked Chad, his mouth quirked with sarcasm.

Chad shrugged, considering it. “Probably not. But what's the worst thing that happens? You ask, and she says no.”

“Ha ha. No, _you_ ask and she says no. _I_ ask and she laughs me back to London.”

“Point taken,” Chad replied as he skimmed more of the list, his blue eyes shrewd as he considered each name before moving on. “Wait, who the hell wanted to ask Avril Lavigne to costar?”

Owen craned his head back over the table, the newest list in his hands completely forgotten. “How the hell does anyone think Avril Lavigne should be the female lead? Isn't she still her rock-pop tour anyway?”

“No idea. But hey, Anne Hathaway has potential. Granted, she's making more money now than she was a few years ago, but she's got definite potential,” Chad pointed out, dropping the list on the table as he leaned back, his hands behind his head.

“Anne Hathaway isn't on any of the lists,” Owen mused as he glanced again at the list in front of him and of the several scattered between himself and Chad. He hmm'd before biting his lip and then looking up at Chad.

“She's not,” Chad confirmed with a faint smile. “I just thought of her since I saw her the other night at the opening of the last Harry Potter movie.”

Owen chuckled. “You actually went to that?” It sounded almost contemptuous as the older man shook his head. “A complete travesty; that entire series was broken in book six. I can't believe she clung to an outline she wrote a decade before finishing the series—”

“And yes, we all know it's a travesty that she didn't take character growth into consideration and we _all_ know that Draco Malfoy got the short end of the stick,” Chad interrupted, breaking the oft heard rant well before it was begun. Owen grinned sheepishly and Chad sighed. “I only went because my agent said 'CDC' has to make an appearance. Something about how it's been too long since my last movie, never mind that I've been working on this one.”

“We haven't even finished casting, must less started filming. How can you possibly think that this qualifies as working on a movie?” Owen demanded. “You're just being a slacker because you hate L.A.”

“What a terrible thing to say,” Chad deadpanned. “I adore my hordes of screaming fans.”

“And you adore the shit parts your agent gets you? Admit it, 'CDC' peaked with _Mackenzie Falls_ ,” Owen told Chad. “Besides, you'd gotten better parts here as Chad Cooper than you ever got there as Chad _Dylan_ Cooper.”

“I know, I know.” Chad mulled it for a second before going back to the lists. “So is Anne Hathaway off the list? Or do you think it's a possibility?”

“Off,” was Owen's immediate reply. He glanced up with an amused grin. “Unless you have a couple million lying around to pay her with, because her asking price is almost as high as your buddy Scarlet's.”

“Oh. Hadn't realized that. I could not draw any pay at all?” he suggested.

Owen scoffed. “You're putting up half the money on this project, how does that translate to you getting paid?” He didn't even wait for a reply. “She's a no, we can't afford her. Fuck, who _can_ we afford? Maybe if we tried to get rid of some of the post production costs we could scrape some kind of money together.”

Chad gave a mirthless laugh. They already nixed as much as they could in the way off costs, right down to having only crew that lived in London, getting their hands on second hand filming equipment, tossing the possible scripts back and forth between the two of them and the other members of the core team (and that was before deciding to pen the damned thing themselves), _and_ practically selling their souls to get a week's filming on a familial estate of one of the crew members.

“We can't cut costs on post production,” Chad said flatly, his patience at an end as he crumpled the list he'd had in hand, then reaching for the rest of the lists and taking an unholy amount of pleasure in balling them up one by one. “If we cut costs there,” and he reached out and snatched Owen's list, squeezing it, too, into nonexistence, “we risk making this whole project worth less than the effort we're all putting into it.”

“Without a female lead we don't even have a movie,” Owen pointed out. “And right now, we haven't got one. Which means no movie. Which means none of us get make anything.”

“Which also means I'm not shelling out half of a million-dollar budget out of my pocket. I may have deep pockets, but you know most of my cash is tied up, I can't touch it till the market takes an upswing.”

Chad breathed out a long breathe. “Does she have to be blond?”

“What? Blond? What makes you think she has to be blond?” Owen questioned him.

“Maybe because more than half of the list was blond, and most of the ones you liked were blond?” Chad suggested. “Cause you know our best bet is going to be someone who hasn't been, um, discovered, I guess.”

Owen narrowed his eyes. “You've got someone in mind. Coop, you've been holding out on me.”

Chad's hands went up in an almost mock surrender. “No, no. I don't, but I do. I knew this girl once, she was a pretty good actress. Or at least she would have been if she'd stayed in L.A. long enough.” Chad paused. It crossed Owen's mind that whoever Chad was about to suggest might not be a good idea, since it was obvious that Chad was having second thoughts, but he was a patient man, and if Chad thought the girl was equal to the part, he'd tell him.

“I heard a few weeks ago that she's been doing auditions, but she's having a hard time. Getting type cast.”

Owen gave Chad a sympathetic look, knowing that Chad had been victim to that particular devil more than once. “So she's what, a teen queen trying to break the mold?”

“A comedian trying to use a theater degree is more like it,” Chad told him, sighing feebly. “You should know who she is; her name's Allison Monroe.”

Owen stared at Chad blankly. “That doesn't ring any bells. At all. Try again?”

Chad closed his eyes. “Sonny Monroe,” he bit out. “She was the one who got _So Random_ an Emmy.”

Owen's eyes widened in recognition. “You mean Funny Sonny? You want _her_ to be Erin? Christ, Coop, she's never acted a day in her life!” Owen stopped abruptly, guilt on his face. “And I'm just as guilty of it as everyone else.”

Chad shrugged, this time giving Owen his own particular brand of sympathy. “I did it to her, too, but trust me, she can act. I remember the first few months she was on set with them. None of them liked her much, but you'd never have known it from the way she acted.”

“Real life and on screen are completely different things, Coop,” Owen pointed out.

“Give her the chance. Make the offer. I think you'll be surprised,” Chad told Owen honestly. “Just my opinion, but hey, you're the director.”

“Bollocks, you're producing this effing thing. Fine, consider the offer made. Think she'll take it?” At Chad's nod Owen sighed. “You know it's going to push the budget even more to put her up, yeah?” He brightened momentarily. “You think maybe she could pick up her own room if we reimburse her after we open?”

“Doubt it,” Chad answered. “I don't think she has access to the money she made while she was with Condor. But I'll underwrite her living expenses—I've got an empty guestroom. Think of the convenience having your stars in one place. You'll be able to find us no matter what.”

“Huh,” Owen said. “Point taken. You've got yourself a deal, Cooper. Just so long as your Allison Monroe says yes.”

 

Sonny didn't even pause as she got out of the cab. It was raining hard enough to make her wince as the icy droplets hit her, but Sonny knew from years of experience that looking up to examine a stormy sky only made you wetter and more cold in the end. It was a legacy of too many Wisconsin winters, something she'd never really thought she'd have to rely on after relocating to New York City. But then, she hadn't really thought much about it beyond graduating and going back to the business she knew and loved, even if she'd only been on _So Random_ for two years before leaving.

Unfortunately, her chosen business didn't seem to want her as much as she wanted it. That wasn't exactly fair, Sonny admitted to herself as she managed to slide through the crowd without losing her bag, her purse, her still closed umbrella, or being run over. She was uneasy with the thought that she might one day be like one of the automatons that shoved their way along the sidewalks of the city, making their own path no matter who was in the way, but it was only a matter of time if something didn't give.

The ice-cold rain off of her, Sonny ducked through the run-down lobby of the small building she'd rented an apartment from. It was self-preservation that made her skip the elevator—she'd ridden in it exactly once since she'd moved in, and that was when she was being shown the apartment—but the stairs were only marginally better. The stairs just made Sonny feel like she had a fighting chance of making it home alive so long as she stayed near the wall and didn't touch the banister. Where it wasn't rotting and loose, it was covered in questionable substance that Sonny just knew she was better off not identifying.

“Home,” she breathed, as she made the fifth floor and her own door right next to the stairwell, digging out her keys and carefully unlocking the three locks that secured her life. Home, indeed; she tried not to condemn it, relying on that ever-optimistic side of herself that had gotten her through nearly everything bad in her life.

But optimism was hard to come by when you were living in a space that was barely bigger than a dorm room. Her entire life fit into the boxes still neatly stacked inside the small closet, minus the few that were on the minuscule kitchen counter that had a sink, a mini fridge, and a microwave. Anything extra had been left in Wisconsin in the house she couldn't bear to sale and spent most of her spare money on supporting. It had been a tempting thought Sonny had entertained more than once while she was in school, but in the end, she couldn't justify giving up the home she'd grown up in, no matter what happened.

Sonny pushed the thoughts aside as she closed the door behind herself. “I can't believe I'm paying five hundred a month for this,” she sighed, taking care to lock all three locks and pushing a chair behind the door just in case. Not that she'd had any problems since moving in, but Sonny didn't think it could hurt. Stranger things had happened in New York City than a girl from Wisconsin being raped or murdered because she'd assumed a few pieces of steel would stop an intruder.

She dropped her oversized purse on a small table next to the now properly locked and safeguarded door, her keys following into the plain glass dish kept there for just that purpose. They clattered pleasantly, echoing through the small space as Sonny halfheartedly kicked one of the boxes in passing on her way to the meager kitchen area. The only things worth any real money in the entire apartment were the laptop carefully hidden beneath the mattress of the bed and the phone that she'd brought with her from Wisconsin.

Sonny had surmised five years earlier when she'd returned to Wisconsin that of all the places to save money, those two were not the places. After all, classes could very well depend on the laptop (and more than once had) and her eventual livelihood would definitely depend on her accessibility. It was only too unfortunate that her cell phone had bit the metaphorical dust just before graduation. She hadn't yet replaced it and doubted it would be before she heard from her current round of auditions. At least this way she could get gentle rejection one after the other in the privacy and relative comfort of her own home.

To her dismay the light on her answering machine was already flashing, the bright red '3' etching itself into her eyes as she bypassed it, heading instead for the mini fridge and one of the many bottles of water waiting inside. No matter how much cheaper it was to filter, Sonny was taking no chances on the water that came from this particular sink. As she stood there drinking it she sighed and pressed the play button, waiting for the inevitable.

“Miss Monroe, this is Theresa with Mr. Silverman’s office. We’d like to thank you for coming in to audition. Unfortunately, Mr. Silverman has decided that he’d like to go in a different direction. Thank you again.”

The sudden burr of the dial tone on the recording was a startling bit of relief after the polite but quite firm rejection. She took another long drink of the cold water as her finger hit the delete button, the sudden silence a peaceful aftermath. It was broken all too soon by the next message, which made Sonny arch an eyebrow as she listened.

“Hi, Sonny, this is Carry out in L.A. We heard you were doing auditions and we have this great sketch show planned we’d like you for. If you’re intere—”

She didn’t even wait for that one to finish before she deleted it. “Well, that one’s new for me,” she told herself without humor. “Not interested.”

For the third time the silence was interrupted, but this time Sonny actually listened after the first few words, her head tilted in intrigue and her eyes beginning to feel a faint spark of hope behind them.

“I hope I’ve got this number right. My name is Owen Reynolds, and this message is for Allison Monroe. I’ve got a script I’d like you to look at, for a movie, so if you’re interested it’d be great if you could give me a call back. Ah, if I’ve got this wrong and you’re not Allison Monroe, my apologies. You can reach me at 44-22-5—oh, wait, right, you’re in the States. Ah, area code 646-555-4389. Right, I look forward to hearing from you. Oh, it’s the female lead, if that helps convince you to call me back. So, yeah, goodbye.”

This time the dial done startled Sonny out of her surprise; habit nearly made her erase it before she scrambled after a pen and a scrap of paper. A script—a lead—and she’d been auditioning for supporting roles, not even daring to hope that she might land a lead. She replayed the message once more, the number scribbled down before she had the phone in her hands and was dialing the Manhattan area code.

It rang twice before she got a harried, “Hallo?” But the near curt greeting didn’t do anything to dim the smile that was spreading across her lips.

“Hi, I was calling for Owen Reynolds? My name is Allison Monroe.”


	2. Chapter 2

The sad thing about her new-found luck was that Sonny wasn’t exactly thrilled with the script. It was all right, the basics were all there: some drama, some romance, the painful anxiety of a perfect thing gone wrong because of a misunderstanding. But she had to draw the line somewhere and the falling off of a cliff thing was just… _On the other side of good taste,_ Sonny told herself as she tried not to convey her disappointment to the man sitting across from her.

Owen Reynolds, his name was, and unlike the script he sparked her interest. He was taller than her, his hair a much lighter shade of brown, and his eyes were a bright apple green that seemed full of life and humor. Now how to tell this man that she didn’t want the lead in his script? Especially when it was still the best offer she’d gotten so far?

“Mr. Reynolds—”

“Owen,” he charmed, “Mr. Reynolds should be a stuffy old man with a pipe.”

She smiled. “Owen,” came her amended opening to rejecting the script, “I really appreciate the offer, and it’s certainly an _interesting_ script,” and Sonny paused, the dismay that she could read easily in those expressive green eyes communicating to her. “It’s just not something that I want to do. I’m sorry, but I’m already having a problem because of typecasting.”

He leaned forward over the table, his hands still around the cup of tea in them. “I can understand the typecasting, Miss Monroe, certainly I very nearly was guilty of assuming you weren’t capable when your name came across my desk,” Owen began, earnest and just a bit chagrined at admitting his own faux pas. “But this script isn’t anything like what you were doing for Condor Studios.”

She smiled a little, hoping that it didn’t look as sick as she was beginning to feel. “Yes, but the script is just it.”

“What’s wrong with the script?” he exclaimed. “We worked like slaves, Coop and I did, to fix it!”

Sonny went pale. “To fix it?” she asked weakly. _Oh god,_ she thought, _this is the improved script?_ Suddenly Sonny was sure that her luck hadn’t changed a single bit. She was doomed to languish in the sketch comedy world. Not that there was anything wrong with that genre, she hastily amended before the thought became an albatross.

But she could do so much more, and she wanted to.

“Hand that here, let me look at that,” Owen ordered her, his sudden brisk annoyance having Sonny’s hand out, ‘fixed’ script in hand, as he snatched it and flipped it open. “Oh, bugger. I’ll be Coop did this to me on purpose. This isn’t the right script.”

“It’s not the right script?” she echoed, now an edge of surrealism coming out in her voice.

Owen shook his head. “It’s not, this is the _original_.” Sonny couldn’t help but start to smile at the obvious distaste that Owen so obviously had for it. If it weren’t for the fact that it was a professional setting Sonny had a nagging feeling that he might have tossed the offending paper into the garbage, or possibly even set it aflame to burn it in effigy.

“This is embarrassing,” he told her, but Sonny shook her head trying to set him at ease even as he dug through the battered satchel he was carrying. “I’ve got my copy here, it’s a mess but you’ll be able to look through it and see the improvement. We fixed a lot of the dialogue, and the utter tripe that was the initial meeting.”

“And the cliff?” Sonny asked hopefully, starting again to feel better about the situation.

“Oh god, don’t get me started on the cliff. Coop was all for it, or at least the idea of it, until he read it,” Owen explained to her as he began dumping sheaves of paper onto the table. “Where is that bloody thing? I know I had it this morning… Oh, but the cliff, there’s no falling off it anymore.” He perked up staring at her inquisitively for a moment. “Do you ride?”

“Excuse me?”

“Horseback, do you ride at all?” Before she could answer he flourished out a well-read wad that was clipped together at the top with three bright yellow binder clips. “Here it is, if you’ll just ignore all of the coffee and tea stains and my own scribbling.”

He proffered it to her and Sonny took it, biting her lip in amusement at the so obvious brown splotches on the very first page. But within seconds she was already pages in, her eyes rapidly skimming line after line.

“This is so much better,” she muttered distractedly before she flushed, glancing up at him. “Not to insult whoever wrote the original, of course.”

“Oh, no, insult away,” Owen told her on a chuckle as he waved a hand at her permissively. “Coop and I insult the original writer often, loudly, and as creatively as we possibly can. It’s quite therapeutic, actually, after you’ve spent four days trying to figure how such a good idea got carried out so… well, badly.”

Sonny bit her lip even as he continued on, reaching across the small table and nearly knocking over his now cooling mug of tea to flip to the back and a little blue tab that was poking out from the pages there.

“See here? No more falling off of cliffs, because that was a rubbish idea in the first place. We went with a riding accident, but mostly because we're cheap bastards and one of the crew has some familial lands in Wales that comes complete with massive manor house and a stable full of horses.” Owen flipped again, this time forward. “And that ex-fiancé nonsense has been ironed out as well. It's far more palatable now, if you ask me, and it makes more sense this way if they're going to have their true love bit.”

“It does read much better,” Sonny nodded in agreement. “And all I have to do is say yes? You don't want me to have a reading? I mean, it's been a long time since I was actually on _So Random_ , and—”

“You're nervous, yeah?” Owen asked her, and Sonny nodded again, her eyes darting away from his. “Well, I'm not. You were good on that show, but you had a wider range than most of them. They were comediennes, they were passing time with pranks. The one was mainly just pretty. But _you_ had talent, otherwise that Emmy would have gone to someone else.”

“Oh, well, that,” Sonny started to downplay her role in it with a pretty flush across her cheeks. Owen stopped her cold, green eyes boring into hers.

“I don't play games, Miss Monroe.”

“Allison, please,” she interjected. “If I can call you Owen you can call me Allison.”

If she'd known him better, or known who his partner was, Sonny would have recognized the wheels turning in his mind right then as he noted that she most definitely wasn't going by Sonny anymore, no matter how much Chad Cooper remembered the woman before him as the bright girl from years before. But Owen wasn't a fool and certainly wasn't going to risk her talking herself out of this by bringing that up and distracting her from the point he was trying to make.

“Allison, then, and happily,” he agreed, all of his thoughts hurried across his mind in a heartbeat before he continued on convincing the girl that she would be the perfect Erin Mitchell for his movie. “ _So Random_ was on air for several seasons before you were brought aboard. I know, I've done the research since your name made its way to my ears. And in that time, they never came close to being nominated, much less winning an Emmy against some of the top shows back then.”

He paused, sat back and took a sip of his cold tea now, trying not to wrinkle his nose and furrow his brow against the taste. “You do yourself a disservice, you know. Things changed when you brought your ideas, I've seen the reruns and looked at it with my own eyes. And more than that, while your costars managed to insinuate themselves into the characters they were portraying, you _were_ the characters. And that's exactly why I don't need to have you read through and am, truly, desperate to get you to sign this contract before you realize I'm insane and you can't possibly spend two and a half months working for me.”

“Oh.” And then Sonny smiled. “In that case, where do I sign?”

 

“So it’s not as involved as the contracts you’d get from your more contemporary productions—the perks of being indie film makers here,” Owen joked. “We’re saving trees one contract at a time by cutting out all the idiocy.”

It made her nervous to be looking over a contract without someone who spoke legal, but Sonny knew that she wasn’t in the position to argue. She needed the job, the role, and she needed to make it a show stopper, otherwise she could toss out the hopes that she could be more than a sketch comedienne without a future outside of a Vegas nightclub. Not that Sonny thought for a moment that she’d ever end up living like that. Hell no, she’d try her hand at writing comedy sketches for other people first, and just cross her fingers that they had her own sense of timing.

But Sonny also knew that she was more than just a comedian. If anything, the last five years had proven that, since she’d spent a great deal of her time doing anything _but_ laughing. Even her professors and student directors has commented on how unexpected her diversity was. She _could_ do this. She _would_.

She had to.

Which left her trying to save money by reading her own contract and working out any kinks she found, like the nudity clause. Oh, that was so going.

She pursed her lips as she took her pen and underlined the section in question before handing it back to Owen. “I’m going to have to object strenuously to this part. Nudity isn’t my thing.”

And then she flushed bright red as Owen looked her up and down with an appraising eye. “It should be your thing, Allison, you’ve a rare beauty in you. Selfish to keep it penned up.” And as she thought he was going to try and convince her that she should let him film her without clothes he lined through the entire clause without hesitating, adding his initials next to the edited piece. “The film is supposed to be PG, not R, and this is just the ‘standard’ contract we have. You won’t be baring any flesh that you don’t feel the need to.”

“But there are scenes where some flesh will be bared,” Sonny countered, thinking of the love scene that had read beautifully and then made her cringe as she realized that she would be acting it out.

Owen shrugged. “In this day and age, you could be fully clothed and we could make you appear nude.” He waggled his brows at her sparking forth a spate of laughter from the both of them before Owen ruefully admitted that that kind of CG editing wasn’t in their budget. “In lieu of it, though,” he told her, “my costume director has these wonderful pasty things that cover as much as a bikini top. Just without the straps.”

“Oh,” Sonny responded. “That sounds… painful, actually.”

“Not as much as you’d think.”

There was silence for a moment as Sonny took back the contract, ready to read further. But in light of the budget she decided it was best to be as up front as she could, since his editing comment had sparked the thought.

“About the costumes and editing… I have some scars on my back. If computer editing isn’t in the budget, how would they be accommodated for?”

“Are they bad?” He sounded all at once concerned, dismayed, and sympathetic. Sonny couldn’t tell which exactly he was as she glanced up at them from under her lashes.

“Bad enough,” she told him. “I broke a windshield in a car with my back when I was sixteen. They’re well healed, but they’re quite visible.”

“I’ll tell you what, Allison. We’ll cross that bridge when it needs crossing. I have no doubts that we can deal with it without breaking the budget or making a sensation of the markings.”

“Thank you,” she said softly before turning to the third and final page of the contract. There wasn’t anything left to make her hesitate and, in fact, the only thing she had actually told Owen she wanted struck from the contract was the nudity. They’d managed to compromise on one or two other, minor, details, but Sonny was fairly happy with the scruffy hand edited deal now.

Deciding that the rest could be left as is, she picked up her pen again and initialed next to his at the removal of the nudity clause, again on the first page where her travel and living conditions were underwritten by the production, and then turned again to the back page and signed there with a flourish. “Done, done and done,” she told him on a smile.

He took the contract from her and signed beneath hers before folding it and slipping it back into the computer case he’d brought with him. “I’ll have your copy to you before your flight leaves; that gives you two days to pack and study up on your script. Remember, you’ll have a day to settle in before we have the first read through,” he told her, and Sonny was amused to meet the director for the first time since she’d met Owen Reynolds. He was much more commanding and in control than the man himself. But then, she thought, his livelihood was the making of movies, and this one seemed to be a pet project indeed.

“About that,” she asked him. “You said someone’s offered me a room?”

Owen nodded, the business demeanor that had overcome his attitude the moment he began talking to her about the filming schedule sinking for a bare moment. “The majority of the crew is native and those who aren’t are already bunking in with the others. In fact, of all of us, you and Coop are the only Americans involved, unless we come across a random tourist in the extras. But, unlike you, Coop has maintained a residence in London for the last four years; he has two spare rooms and has offered his home unstinting.”

“Coop,” she asked, drawing a blank. Owen had mentioned this Coop person several times already, but Sonny hadn’t really given him much thought.

Owen mm’d at her noncommittally. “Coop, as in Chad Cooper. He’s funding a great deal of this and he’s also producing it.” A funny look crossed Owen’s face as the bottom of Sonny’s stomach started to drop out. “You know him, don’t you? I thought the two of you worked together on a show? Or shared a studio, or something like that.”

With her stomach gone lopsided and the rest of her feeling as if she’d been dumped into ice, Sonny managed, “Coop is Chad Cooper? As in Chad _Dylan_ Cooper? From _Mackenzie Falls_?” If she’d been a little more in control of herself Sonny would have been proud that her voice didn’t crack or break or shift at all as she said it.

“Exactly right!” Owen told her. “So you’re already chums then?”

She felt sick, and for a moment Sonny actually thought she would faint. “I’m going to be staying with Chad Dylan Cooper for the entirety of the filming?”

“Yeah, that’s what we worked out. That’s not a problem, is it?”

 Sonny could only smile back at him weakly.

 

“Take a chance, Sonny,” she muttered uncharitably at herself as she pulled her coat tighter around her body.

The frown gracing her face deepened as she resolutely ignored the unsubtle voice inside her mind that was all Tawni Hart—Sonny didn’t really give a damn if frowning caused wrinkles. At the rate she was going she was going to have a coronary from living with Chad Dylan Cooper for two months. Or, and this was more likely, dying of pneumonia because Chad Dylan Cooper was too immature to actually pick her up from the airport as promised.

She grimaced as she chafed her hands together, wishing for gloves. She had the right to frown; hell, she had the right to smack Chad _and_ his little buddy Owen. It’d been nothing but trouble right down to the annoyingly encouraging phrases Tawni, Nico and Grady had all flung at her when she’d told them of her backhanded success at landing a feature role.

“Oh yeah,” she grumbled. “This is really the opportunity of a lifetime. Right. The opportunity to sit here freezing my ass off while _he’s_ off somewhere laughing himself silly because he pulled one over on me.”

“Why am I sitting out in the freezing cold at Heathrow?” she asked herself after another moment of not so silent annoyance. “I have the address to his apartment, and if he really thinks that I’m going to sit here waiting for him like a damsel in distress, then he’s insane.”

She wasted no time in picking up the duffel that she used as a suitcase and the smaller rolling carryon, heading towards one of the several empty cabs. And that was precisely when it started to rain. “Oh, hell no,” Sonny nearly wailed as she tried to shield the duffel with her body. The once waterproof nylon was no doubt to old and well used to still retain the sealed lining—which meant nearly everything she had brought with her would be soaked through.

Regardless of the state of her luggage, Sonny was trying to bite of curses as she managed to come aside one of the dark colored cabs, her own clothes soaked through to her skin with the chilling October rain. She all but threw her bags into the back of the cab before diving in herself, her purse clutched in her hands as she tried to sort through it for the piece of paper with Chad's address with damp fingers.

“Cambridge Gate at Regents Park,” she told the driver. She ignored his surprised look in favor of trying to wring out her sodden hair without making anything else about her more wet than it already was. It failed miserably, but in her usual fashion Sonny managed to come up with the single positive by the time she reached her destination: she was now lukewarm and wet instead of freezing and wet.

Not much, but Sonny was full prepared to take what she could get at this point. She didn’t even register the tab, just shoved a handful of the unfamiliar pound notes at the man before heading back out into the cold drizzle; she was shivering and feeling rather frozen before she even made it into the building, much less slipped into the warmth of the elevator. The last of her anger had burnt well away by the time she got to the door with the number she was looking for; Sonny could only find the weary strength to knock, certain that she was about to be dragged back into the half-baked rivalry of the Falls versus the Randoms.

She was exhausted; she’d spent almost a day flying across an ocean and then spent hours waiting in the chill. All she wanted was something warm to eat, a soft bed, and a very hot shower—and definitely not in that order. When the door was answered Sonny was half sure she was hallucinating at the pleasant smell wafting out past the familiar face of the man who’d left her sitting at the airport.

“Hello, Chad. Long time, no see,” she said wryly.

His blue eyes widened and Chad exclaimed, “But your plane isn't due in till tomorrow!”

She frowned, wondering if it was just an excellent performance. Deciding to err on the side of habit, she just shrugged, water dripping. “Is it, Chad? Is it really?” She didn’t even try to smile.


	3. Chapter 3

There were few things in Chad’s life that he outright enjoyed without having the taint of his Hollywood persona stamped across it. Ironically, cooking was one of them. Not that he was a Wolfgang Puck or Bobby Flay, but Chad did know his way around a kitchen (providing it was his own) and he genuinely liked cooking for himself or for what close friends he had. Well, that was basically Owen, his mom, and sometimes a few friends from middle school that he’d stayed in touch with before he became Chad Dylan Cooper, instead of the sometimes annoying blond kid from down the street who’d rather read lines for a school play than join a game of pickup basketball.

Besides, there was something all at once soothing and almost arrogant about cooking for himself, and knowing that whatever he was cooking would be good. Not that Chad had anything against arrogance; half of his life was spent playing an arrogant little bastard. At least now; there had been a time when he had _been_ that arrogant little bastard. Chad much preferred the life he led outside of Hollywood. The paychecks were nice, but it was all together easier to be just Chad.

“Maybe not arrogant,” he told himself as he slid the bell peppers and zucchini he’d chunked into the pan, ignoring the sizzling as he turned to quickly wash up the cutting board and knife. “Confidence building. Something goofy like that.”

He chuckled at himself as he slid the chicken into the pan. The sizzle from the pan created a pleasing smell as it seared the seasoned chicken in the oil before Chad flipped it carefully, giving the peppers and zucchini a quick stir before lowering the heat and letting them all sauté together. It was a very simple meal, nothing like what he planned for Sonny’s first night in London. He had a cheat recipe for pork Wellington that someone had sworn up and down was just as amazing as beef Wellington but about fifty times easier and healthier than the full recipe. It was tradition with a twist.

The noodles were just hitting al dente when someone knocked at his door. He wasn’t concerned about rabid fans or stalker paparazzi, not here. The flat he’d bought several years before was in one of the nicer areas of London and he had good security with it. In fact, if anyone tried entering that wasn’t already approved he’d know about them before they managed to hit the lift. However, there were only a handful of people who would be passed into the building without question, and that made Chad pause for a moment as he pulled the noodles from the burner and set them, pot and all, at the sink.

Owen was always an automatic pass, but Owen was still in the States finishing up some personal business that he’d gone over to deal with in the first place. His ‘in person’ pitch to Sonny had really just been the icing on the cake. His parents—but they were currently sitting in the Mediterranean enjoying a week’s long cruise south of Greece, not mucking about in a chill London drizzle at nine o’clock at night.

In fact, none of the handful of people who would be passed in without pause would actually be out in said drizzle, especially since it started as a fairly nice deluge of icy water before softening to the habitual wetness of the last few weeks. He hadn’t even considered an emergency (though Chad would have known after a heartbeat’s worth of terror that any true emergency would have come across the phone first) as he left his pasta and sizzling chicken and vegetables to answer the door.

So assuredly unworried was he that Chad didn’t even check who it was before opening the door, a green kitchen towel slung over his shoulder as he started to smile a welcome to his visitor.

“Hello, Chad,” said a voice that he hadn’t heard in years, a voice that he recognized in an instant even as his eyes began processing the changes in Sonny Monroe of the course of the last five years. “Long time, no see.”

“But your plane isn't due in till tomorrow!” he exclaimed as he took in her dripping wet figure and the pale cheeks that spoke of time in the cold air. She wasn’t even smiling, which was just as foreign an expression on her face as was the taller, more mature figure she presented even in comfortable and untrendy clothes. Of course, his opinion wasn’t in any way skewed by the fact that the wet denim and cotton clung to her like a second skin; Chad Cooper was more mature than that. Some days.

Sonny frowned at him and if Chad had been a little less shocked at her sudden appearance Chad would have been even more disconcerted by the way her brow furrowed at him. Then she shrugged. “Is it, Chad? Is it really?”

“Yes!” he shot back, still flustered with an edge of creeping annoyance. Thirty seconds and she’d already managed to get under his skin—had she even said more than a dozen words? It had to be some kind of record, a karmic response to the hell he’d put her through back at Condor Studios when he was riding high on his first success with _Mackenzie Falls_.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” she asked him, and Chad breathed in deeply against the sudden urge to smack his hand to his face in exasperation.

“Of course, please, Sonny, come in. _Mi casa es su casa_ and all that,” Chad told her as he stepped back, easily snagging her duffel bag and hoisting it so that it wouldn’t drag a wet trail across the wooden floor of the small foyer. Even as he shifted the heavy luggage to one hand he was checking for his cell phone in his back pocket; there was no excuse for Sonny being stranded at the airport.

She stepped in, wincing as her shoes squelched a little, and Chad sighed. “Don’t worry about it— I’ll get the floors dry once you stop dripping on them.”

She bristled at the careless comment even as she followed him. “I wouldn’t be dripping on your floor if I hadn’t been forced to take a cab in the pouring rain after waiting for my promised ride for three hours.”

The heat in her voice threw him back for a moment to the last time they’d spoken. Even if the circumstances were completely different, Chad couldn’t help feeling the helpless anger begin to swell in his stomach that she would twist everything he said. And as quickly as it surged through him, white-hot and vicious, Chad throttled it back. Gracious hosts didn’t open their homes to a guest only to turn around and strangle them in a fit of rage. Psychotic hosts, maybe. Deranged? Oh, definitely. But the last time Chad checked he was completely sane.

 _And then you offered your place to Sonny Monroe for the duration of filming. Jackass,_ he called himself silently as he reigned in his temper as he wouldn’t have five years before.

“I know it’s not your fault that you’re soaked, Sonny,” Chad told her, his jaw clenched. “And believe me, when I get a hold of Owen I’m going to find out why I didn’t know you were coming in today. But for now, let’s just get you dried off, alright?”

He glanced back at her as Sonny gave him a faintly suspicious, “Fine,” but Chad refused to rise to the bait, even though the habit nearly had him doing so. Chad wasn’t even sure that Sonny realized she’d already fallen into their old patterns—not that he wanted to, because their old patterns also meant that there was actual insult and injury to the verbal sparring.

“I don’t think I have anything I can wear,” she added softly as she followed behind him. Chad fought the urge to smack himself in the face. “My duffel is pretty old. I’m almost positive that everything in it is soaked through.”

He stopped dead, turning to look at her. He could all but feel the blood rushing downward from his face as he contemplated Sonny Monroe naked in his apartment. Oh yeah, there was definitely rushing downward. She’d been a pretty girl, a very pretty girl, and that girl had grown into a striking woman. And Chad was, after all, just a man.

“Tell me you’re joking,” he demanded. “You’ve got to have something in your carryon?”

Sonny shook her head at him and he sighed gruffly. “Alright. Alright, I can handle this. Stay here for a sec,” he told her, retracing back down the hall to the foyer, nearly clipping his shoulder on the archway that made it a foyer instead of part of the hall as he brought himself up short to turn into the kitchen. He went straight through it to the door on the other end, hauled it open and dumped the wet bag and clothing within it there next to his washer and dryer.

That, he could deal with later. For now… he really needed to make sure that all inappropriate thoughts about Sonny were kept to a minimum. After all, rolling around in passionate embraces was part of the script, so he had something to look forward to. Sort of.

Chad paused to check on his dinner, stirring it up quickly and turning the chicken before slipping through the arch that led to the dining room, and another arch that led back into the hall past the T section that split to the bedrooms. His room was here next to the kitchen and well away from the two guest rooms he maintained. Well, a guest room and Sonny’s room, now, exactly where she needed to be on the other side of the apartment.

The closet space of every bedroom in the flat was ample; it was a thing that had attracted Chad when he’d initially been searching for a place to call home in London. The closet space was a holdover from his CDC days when appearance was everything, hair product was something he couldn’t live without, and wrinkles were an unforgivable faux pas. And while Chad may have ditched the excessive hair love and the need to look like he’d been freshly dry cleaned, he had learned one thing that he still lived by.

What gets hung neatly stays unwrinkled.

It had started Chad on a habit of hanging everything, from suits and coats to t-shirts and undershirts and right down to his pajamas. He lived by that rule—it made life so much easier and it made him presentable in far less time than if he had to send his clothes out to be pressed or (god forbid) do it himself, because the last time he’d ironed anything his shirt had been burned through. (It was a very near thing when his mother called it a miracle that Chad could even do his own laundry.)

He needed to run some things through the wash, but he had plenty of pajama pants to share out, and a few t-shirts that looked like they would hold up to anything Sonny could do to them. He snagged them both, gray flannel pants and a dark blue shirt with a football logo on it before hurrying back out, the sizzle of the meal steady and still smelling unburned.

“Here, Sonny,” he said as he slid around the corner into the main hall, hands out and clothes proffered. “Clean and dry and freshly washed. More or less.”

She arched dark brows at him, her lips pursed for a moment before she reached out and took the clothing. “It’s Allison. And thanks.” Her hair was beginning to dry in the warmth of the apartment, the ends curling and her bangs beginning to fall into the familiar shape that suited her face so well.

Chad knew he was asking for it as he smiled innocently at her, gesturing her around the corner to the right and to the end of the hall. “Oh, you’ll always be dear Sonny to me.”

She only glared, clutching her carryon close and holding the dry clothes out from her body to avoid wetting them. “Can you just show me where I’m going to be staying, please? I’m cold, I’m wet, and if it’s not too much to ask I’d really like to take a shower now.”

His jaw clenched. He knew it was just a little irrational to be annoyed that she was rebuffing his attempts to lighten the mood, but it didn’t make him feel any better as he nodded curtly and took her to the door on the left at the end of the hall. “This is yours for the duration,” he told her quietly, carefully keep his tone even and empty, using every bit of his skill not to betray anything he was actually feeling.

Chad opened the door and stepped inside, Sonny following him with an apprehensive look around. Whatever she might have been nervous about quickly vanished as her worry was replaced with pleasant surprise. Almost relief, the realization of which sent another surge of annoyance through Chad as he stepped back to let her enter fully.

“The bathroom is over there,” he pointed, “though it’s connected to the other guest room. The curtains are thick enough to block the light out, but we face west so late afternoon and sunset are about all you need to worry about.”

She nodded at him before tilting her head to the side as she moved her eyes from her temporary home to his. “Alright, thanks. I’ll get cleaned up now.”

She was damning him with faint praise there. This time the grimace came through, just a hint, but her face never wavered as she waited for him to leave. “Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Is that enough time?”

She nodded again before all but herding him out the door. He flinched when the lock was thrown behind him, but again Chad found it hard to logically be annoyed, even though he was. She was a young woman, accustomed to protecting herself, living along in New York City. Locking doors was a matter of habit. Instead of giving in to the annoyance Chad just let his head hand for a moment before heading back to the kitchen, suddenly nearly sprinting as he wondered if his dinner was getting ready to set off the smoke alarm.

“Damn it,” he cursed as he pulled the sauté pan from the burner, but on close inspection the meat was still whole and uncharred, the vegetables merely cooked through a mite more than he wanted.

The pasta was still warm enough for the water to be steaming around the chunked onion and garlic cloves he added for flavor. Chad grabbed the waiting serving dish and fished the pasta from the steaming water carefully, leaving the onion and garlic behind. It was only the work of a few moments to slide the chicken and sautéed vegetables over the pasta, the now empty pan going to the sink on Chad’s way to the fridge.

What had been enough food for a meal plus leftovers was now woefully small for the both of them. Luckily, he had some greens from the market—Chad didn’t hesitate as he dragged out another serving dish, this time a bowl, dumping the field mix into it before digging out the balsamic vinegar dressing her was fond of.

But even these mundane tasks and the residual annoyance he was still going on wasn’t enough to make him stop thinking of the last time they’d spoken, the last time he’d seen her before she’d left Condor Studios, _So Random_ , and him. It was on that particularly vicious thought that Chad finally dug his cell from his pocket and dialed Owen’s number with violent jabs of motion.

Chad didn’t give his friend any time to speak before hissing, “She’s here, Owen. She took a taxi from the fucking airport.” There was a space of silence while Chad reined his temper in for the umpteenth time. “You said the 8th at seven—what is she doing here now?”

There were rustled papers and the shifting of objects through the phone before Owen managed to bite out, “Bloody fucking hell. Coop, mate, I’m sorry, I mixed it up. I told you backwards; the plane was supposed to be in the 7th at eight. Must have got in early then,” he surmised as Chad’s fingers clenched around the phone till his knuckles showed white.

“Fuck, Owen,” Chad growled. “This isn’t exactly an auspicious beginning to the project—she thinks I ditched her there on purpose.”

“Well, you didn’t, surely she’ll understand it was a mix-up?” Chad snorted at Owen’s hopeful surmising of his friendship with sonny, shaking his head even though he knew the other man couldn’t see it. “Huh. Could this be related to her sudden reticence in learning she was to be your flat mate?” Owen’s voice took on smug edge. “Or is this something new, you sly dog?”

 _I wish,_ Chad thought.

What he said was completely different. “No, this isn’t new. Not at all. We’ve always butted heads.” It was almost cathartic, admitting to Owen that Chad had all but brought disaster to the cast by suggesting Sonny. But talent was talent, and she had it. Which made it better to tell the truth now. “But the last time I saw her… Look, it was just bad.”

“It can’t be that bad, Coop.”

It was his fault. Chad knew it. But this might be the first time he actually admitted it to someone else, and knowing that it was his fault didn’t make it easier.

“I may have called her a no talent hack right after _So Random_ won its Emmy.”

There was dead silence from the phone for a moment, then, “I hate to borrow your phrases, Chad, but that’s fucked up. Not right. Not right at all.”

“I know,” Chad started, but he heard the click of the bedroom door down the hall being opened. “I have to go, she’s coming out and I’ve got to make this work. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before hanging up the phone and shoving it back into his pockets. The kitchen towel on his should was dragged down to be tossed next to the sink as Chad made a grab for one of his knives and a serving fork from the drawer behind him. He was carelessly slicing the chicken breasts when she came in, eyes guarded but no longer as angry as they had been before.

“I’m done,” she said softly, giving him an excuse to look at her properly.

Christ, but she looked good in his clothes. The shirt was tight across her shoulders and chest, looser at the waist to snug again at her hips. It was riding up, as well, leaving there absolutely no reason to imagine what his own pajamas looked like on her. They looked good.

 _Too good,_ he realized, shifting his hips to the left so that he was standing firmly behind the island as he continued to slice the chicken into strips. It wouldn’t do to let his new house guest in for the view he was currently sporting. Hormones be damned, he wasn’t about to give her a reason to leave. But how was he going to do this for two and a half months?


	4. Chapter 4

The read through was going very well (which was a good thing in Sonny’s mind since Owen and Chad had only blocked out enough time to do it once before they started filming) and, for once, Sonny was able to view Chad the way the rest of the world saw him: as an exceptionally good actor. Even with no props, no blocking, nothing but the inflection of his voice, he was easily able to convey across the conference table the entire cast was crowded around exactly what his character was feeling.

It was a bit of a surprise, though Sonny knew it shouldn’t be. There was a reason why he’d had his own show, why he wasn’t just tossed to the side by film critics even when his body of work that was arable in the States was catered to teenagers and young females almost exclusively. The heartthrob label he’d been carrying since fourteen wasn’t all he was, and Sonny hated to admit that.

When Chad read his lines, he wasn’t Chad Dylan Cooper anymore. He was Colin, the character, and that was a talent she sorely wanted to ignore.

On the other hand, it wasn’t as if she was giving a bad set of performances herself; she could relate so well to her own character. After all, there were some painful parallels that made her very nervous about the morning’s first scene. Thank god the filming was starting out chronologically, though. Sonny didn’t want to have to go through the pain that she could already feel dimly building from the few minutes of lines almost two hours ago.

“Erin, it’s not what you think, just listen to me,” Chad pleaded to her, eyes glued to his copy of the script. She had a feeling that he already knew his part by heart—he’d helped write it after all.

With a jarring break of her own line of thought Sonny scowled down at her own script. “Why should I? Why should I do anything you say, Colin? You _lied_ to me.” The words sounded desperate and angry, much like Sonny imagined Erin would be feeling if she and the contents of the script were real.

It was hard not to cry as she channeled the emotions within the words. “You hurt me,” she gasped out, halfway to tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” It was gut-wrenching; Sonny couldn’t help but look up at Chad in that moment. His blue eyes met hers, startling dark, and Sonny glanced back down. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

It was her line again, and Sonny paused in the reading to glance at Owen. “Hey, Owen? Do we want to do the screaming thing in here? Or work around that part?”

Owen chuckled from his place at the end of the table. “I don’t imagine that, even with a voice as lovely as yours, a scream in this miniscule room would do us any good, would it? Just work around it, then, and you can practice your shrieks at Chad’s so he’s the one who winds up deaf.”

No one missed the annoyed glare Chad shot Owen, but everyone was wise enough to ignore it. Or at least not comment on it, because Sonny sure as hell wanted to know what was up between them. It was simple enough to finish up the scene and sit back to mull it over, since the next two scenes didn’t require her to speak. She was grateful; it gave her a chance to investigate the dynamic between Chad and Owen, and the cast as a whole.

Owen had seemed so friendly about Chad in New York; Sonny couldn’t imagine that a sturdy friendship like theirs would be off balance over something as simple as what they had both assured her was a simple mix up in dates and times. It was strange to see, Chad being a human being, having a friend, being (dare she say it?) _normal_. She would never have believed it from him five years ago—now she had no idea what to think.

Two days Sonny had lived with Chad, and she had no idea what to make of the man who was once was a boy she'd known. It was easy to understand everyone else; her cast mates were friendly and courteous, even eager to meet her. She'd even had to sign an autograph for someone who had watched _So Random_ when they were younger. Even Owen himself was a fairly simple puzzle in comparison, an interesting puzzle that Sonny could easily see herself wanting to get to know better and figure out. He was such a contrast to the Chad Cooper that she'd known.

And that was still her biggest problem. The Chad she knew and the Chad she was now living with were nothing alike. She hadn't seen him since she was seventeen and he, at only a year older, had had some very typical teenage male interests. He'd also had a penchant for casual cruelty that had hurt her more than once in the three years she'd worked at Condor Studios. This Chad was kind, even friendly, and he was everything that Sonny had wanted him to be when she was younger and she'd found it so easy to believe the best in everyone.

Chad Dylan Cooper had cured her of that naïve belief rather handily. But Sonny didn't like to remember that night, or even that time of her life. She'd left Tawni and Nico and Grady and Zora behind so soon after that—it hadn't set well with her then and she'd never had the chance to fix it once she was able to. And if she'd had to face Chad again after that night at the Emmy's, she wasn't sure she wanted to all that badly.

 _A no talent hack, my ass,_ she thought to herself, still incredulous that Chad would even think that about her after _her_ show won an Emmy. Jealousy, that was what it was. Jealousy that while _So Random_ was doing well enough to snag that award, _Mackenzie Falls_ hadn't even been nominated for one. Even at the top of the ratings it still wasn't good enough unless he trashed everything the Randoms could do.

But... that was five years ago, and even Sonny had to admit that people could change. Chad _had_ changed; Sonny had seen that much with her own two eyes.

Two days under his roof, it all came back to that. _This_ Chad cooked, cleaned up after himself, had a cleaning service in no more than twice a month. He spent his evenings at home working on a laptop at god only knew what (or else he was very addicted to solitaire) and had an eclectic collection of music and movies that made Sonny examine them closely looking for the hidden slasher flicks she knew had to be there. But it really was Debussy, Elton John, the Used. Those really were copies of _Sliding Doors_ and _Ever After_ lined up with _The Bourne Identity_ and _Star Wars_.

He really was being polite and considerate, quiet when she was asleep or trying to, leaving notes when he left, offering to show her around and even promising to take her to Camden Market with a smile no matter how much of a cold shoulder she gave him.

It was just a tactic, she knew, because he was the main financial backer for the movie; he was the one who was going to be hurt the most if it did badly. At least for a bit, since he had at least three projects in varying stages of post-production that Sonny knew of. But the rest, her, Owen, even the secondary cast. They would all suffer to have their names linked to a flopped film. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't some grand scheme. Chad wouldn't do that to a friend, would he? Not a real friend, not Owen. Even if he wanted to—what? Punish Sonny? For what, she had no idea, but it was a thought she'd had more than once.

But each time she considered it, she came to the same conclusion: Chad was sincere, he was a new person, a man she didn't know. And... one who was too overwhelmed by her memory of the boy he used to be for her to want to get to know him.

“We have the same nose,” the girl next to Sonny said loudly toward her. It was pure luck that Sonny’s automatic response was exactly as it was scripted or everyone would know exactly where Sonny's mind was not.

The girl—Sonny thought she remembered her name being Michelle—glanced back down at her own script, a much more battered sheaf of papers than Sonny's own relatively new copy. “The nose, it's our mom's. Daddy always told us we were lucky to have her nose instead of his.”

This time when Sonny forced her attention back it stayed that way, the two scenes of silence passed and the read through nearly done. So close to the end, Sonny sighed as she waited for her next line to come around. The remainder of the read through went quickly, nearly nothing more than a courtesy after the heavy emotions that Sonny and Chad had tossed at each other across the table. Sonny was grateful when it was done; tomorrow they'd begin filming and she'd be that much closer to the life she wanted.

“So we're going to need Sonny and Lisa tomorrow for the first scene, and then I want to work with Sonny and Chad together to take a few practice reels,” Owen was saying. “We need this to be good, and I'd rather we make sure that our leads do as well in person as they do in voice.”

Sonny nodded, ignoring the ice building in her stomach. “Bright and early, Owen,” she told the man, his director cap firmly on. It was a good thing she was an actress, because at this point the pasted-on smile was Oscar worthy.

 

He listened to her pace half the night. Between her room, the hall, the kitchen and the living room, Chad was surprised there wasn’t a loop etched into the hardwood floors. If it weren’t for knowing that, Chad would never have guessed that Sonny was anything other than bright, chipper, and looking forward to her first scene.

Not true; he would have suspected. Chad had held reservations about filming this scene from the first moment he entertained the idea of suggesting Sonny to Owen as their female lead. Granted, it was a death scene—Chad couldn’t stomach having that in the movie, not with Sonny being the lead—but it was meant to be a heart wrenching beginning to the film to immediately make the viewers empathize with Erin.

It just became a little more personal knowing that it was Sonny who was going to be filming it, especially after what happened. But, not that he needed to reassure himself, Sonny was a damn fine actress. He had no doubts that she could pull it off.

At least he hoped she could.

She was already in costume, as it were, a pair of jeans and with a blouse and light sweater. It looked very college chic, which fit with the kind of woman Erin was supposed to be. They’d done something to her hair to make it straight and simple. He wouldn’t tell her that he hated it, Chad knew she would take it completely different than he actually meant it, but he loved her curls. She was always pretty, and usually beautiful, and the curls were part of it. She was watching the crew set the scene as Chad came up behind her. She never noticed him, a very strong indicator that she wasn’t as calm as she pretended, because Sonny was unusually hyperaware of him, if only to scowl or sidle away warily.

“Sonny?” he enquired quietly, trying not to draw attention to them. “You okay?”

He watched her pull her lower lip into her mouth to worry at it with her teeth. “The first scene is with Erin’s dying mother,” she said to him.

“It’ll be fine, Sonny. You’ll be great.” It was supposed to be reassuring, but Chad wasn’t a natural at that particular aspect of humanity. In fact, he was pretty sure that he’d just failed at it fairly spectacularly because when she turned wide eyes on him, Chad could see a thin sheen of tears building up turning her eyes to dark molten chocolate—so not what he’d hoped for.

Sonny swallowed convulsively and Chad hesitated to ask her if she was going to be sick. “I don’t think this is going to be fine,” she told him faintly. “I don’t think I can do this.”

If he could have kicked himself without Sonny being able to see it, Chad would have. It didn’t matter if he’d been trying to help her or not, he’d just made the insecurity that was plaguing her come screaming to the front. _And no wonder,_ he told himself after he’d called himself six kinds of idiot. _With everything that’s happened this isn’t what she expected. Should’ve just kept my mouth shut._

He tried not to think about what would happen if Sonny really bombed the scene, what it would do to her, what Owen would do to him.

“Of course, you can,” he told her brightly, pasting on his _Mackenzie Falls_ smile. It was vacant and bored, perfect for dealing with Portlyn all those years ago on set, or pissing Sonny Monroe off in fantastic style.

Apparently, it still worked; Chad felt a surge of triumph flare through him as years’ worth of habitual response made Sonny’s spine straighten, her eyes narrow a little, a cool tension jutting through her jaw to turn the clenched muscles angry instead of tearful.

Her left eye almost twitched as she smiled back at him. Unlike his, Sonny’s was hard, her teeth bared in threat more than friend, a warning that Chad was prepared to blithely ignore. If Sonny was trying to verbally flay him then she couldn’t sit there and break down over the scene.

She snorted, unladylike and unrepentant. Chad smirked, instigating.

“And what happened to me being a, what was it? ‘No talent hack’ were the words, weren’t they Chad? And having no future in the business?” she demanded. Sonny flipped her hair back, the straightened ends longer than Chad was used to seeing. It didn’t distract him from the suddenly dangerous tension between them as his smirk faded.

He could feel the blood slipping from his face as he paled to leave him lightheaded with the accusation and anger in her voice, and the hurt he could hear under it, even after all of these years. “Sonny,” he offered, his mouth numb around the words. “Do you really want to do this now? Here? Where everyone else can see?”

Chad was sure that if the girl could hiss at him she would have. Or killed him, she looked so furious.

“And what’s wrong with here and now, Chad?” she ground out, the teary blur that had been in her eyes burned away in the wake of her anger. “Not as public as backstage at the Emmy’s, I know, but it’s not like chances to tear a person down in a setting like that comes along every day.”

He tried to give Sonny a smile, but it was weak. “Mostly I was thinking that this might get loud. And possibly bloody. Or definitely,” he amended, noting the curl to her fists. “I deserve a few good hits, Sonny, but now is not the time.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because they just called you to set, it’s time to shoot.”

Just like that the anger fled from her, the tension seeping out of her body. Chad almost sagged with relief. There were definitely things they needed to talk about. He needed to do that instead of avoiding it, or letting her. But he didn’t say anything else, just watched her steadily, half braced in case she did take the chance to knock him a good one. He knew she had a vicious right hook—Nico and Grady had taught her it hoping she’d use it on him. So far, she hadn’t, but Chad was pretty sure he was going to meet it intimately soon.

Sonny considered him for a moment before saying, “Altruism doesn’t seem like you, Chad.”

“Maybe not, but you’re ready to shoot.”

Her breath hitched for a moment as she ignored Owen’s insistent demand for her on set. “You have no idea what happened. How could you know to do this?”

Chad tilted his head to the side before taking a casual step back. “I know exactly what happened, Sonny,” he finally told her. “I know about your parents, and the accident, and everything else.” Her mouth fell open for a moment before she snapped it shut with a click. “I know about it. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Allison!” This time Owen’s call cut through them like a knife and Sonny jerked around toward him.

She started to make an apology but apparently thought better of it, just heading onto set and taking Owen’s direction without argument, just concise nods of her head. Chad couldn’t help but notice how much more relaxed she was, how easily she was taking it all for now. It would get harder, the more times they had to take film, but he would be here when it was done.

And he was, an hour later with Owen declaring that they had what they wanted to print. There were a few things left to shoot today, but nothing that required Sonny. It was a good thing, because she wasn’t bothering to even try and hide the tears as she left the set, Owen trailing her, pausing only for a moment next to him.

Her eyes were lowered and her face turned away, hair a dark heavy curtain, and her voice thick. “We need to talk. Later.”

“Yeah. We need to talk.”

“But later,” she whispered, and when her eyes turned up to him Chad could see agony in them. He nodded and let her escape before Owen could stop her.

“What that all about?” he demanded of Chad.

Chad bit back the ironic laugh in his throat. Owen was going to kill him. “Her parents died because of a car accident five years ago. Her dad was conscious for a bit afterward, but her mother never had a chance.”

“Fucking hell, Coop,” Owen breathed as he dragged a hand down his face. “So that Oscar worthy performance I just got out of her was because she never got to say goodbye to her mother?” Chad thought about answering but Owen ran on without giving him a chance. “Anything else you’d like to tell me? Has she a long-lost twin with whom she makes magic? Is she actually a fairy in disguise? Perhaps there’s a bloody pot at the end of her rainbow?”

This time Chad didn’t bother to try not to laugh as he thumped Owen on the back. “No, you’re good now, my man. Nothing left to tell you.”

He didn’t mention that he didn’t think it was Owen’s business that he was in love with Sonny Monroe. Still.


	5. Chapter 5

She let herself into his apartment with the key he’d given her.

It was late, much later than she should have stayed out, but Sonny had been more than a little nervous about heading straight home— _To Chad’s,_ she corrected herself, because calling it home was a frighteningly comfortable slip of her tongue—and she really wasn’t ready to deal with Chad. Of the people who knew who knew about the accident… Well, most of them lived and worked in Los Angeles and the rest of them were the staff of nurses and doctors who had tried to save her parents’ lives. The people who had saved hers and made sure she would see her eighteenth birthday.

She wasn’t entirely sure that Chad knew about that particular detail, despite his assurance of knowing ‘everything else.’ Not even Lucy knew everything about it—and Sonny told Lucy practically everything. Sonny was sure that Zora and Tawni suspected, if only because it took Sonny so damned long to call Marshall and quit. When she had, it was from the hospital, as a patient.

Nico and Grady really knew nothing. Sonny knew that much because they’d never alluded. Oh, they knew there had been an accident, that her parents had died. Marshall had to tell them all something when she quit. But the fact that Sonny herself had been in the car, that she had been hurt, had been the one thing that Sonny asked Marshall to keep out of the press release when they broke it to the world that _So Random_ was back to a quartet.

Out of courtesy they had kept her personal information under lock and key—it had never been leaked to anyone. And the post office in her hometown had held all of her fan mail back until she was ready to deal with it. There had been a lot and she given Marshall a blanket letter of thanks to reply to the thousands of letters she’d read. She _had_ read every one of them. The ever-sunny Sonny had depended on them to help her fight the depression she’d sunk in to.

Chad didn’t know that either, she was certain.

God, she didn’t want to have this conversation with him. It was one of the reasons why she’d been hiding in one of the London pubs, a little hole in the wall place, drowning her sorrows in numerous glasses of fizzy soda instead of going back to his flat and talking to him.

That was possibly the biggest problem she had. Sonny actually wanted to talk to him about it. It was such a complete about-face from the attitude she’d been holding against him. But… He wasn’t the Chad Dylan Cooper that she’d known when she was fifteen and sixteen. He wasn’t the same jerk who’d called her a hack when she was seventeen, and Emmy warm in her hands.

He was Chad Cooper. A decent guy. Someone whom she had seen in the last few days as considerate, polite, even courteous to her when she was a complete bitch to him. Not that he didn’t deserve a few jabs. Sonny wasn’t above getting a little back, because that one thing he’d said to her that night had been something she’d nursed into paranoia after her parents were dead and she was alone in the house wishing she was, too.

But she wasn’t that girl anymore, either.

The insecurities that he and the other _Mackenzie Falls_ cast members had preyed on for three years had long since been laid to rest. She had others now that were related to real life; bills, her career, the possibility that she had wasted money and time and effort trying not just to be funny Sonny. She had money, yes, in trust—but Sonny wouldn’t touch that, couldn’t touch it until she was twenty-five. And really? She didn’t want to. It was something of a personal crusade to make on her own, to make something of herself and never have to touch the capital that her parents had invested into her savings.

She was doing it, wasn’t she? The house was still hers, the mortgage was paid off and all of the property taxes paid every year. She’d socked most of her mom’s life insurance into paying off the mortgage, most of her dad’s into tuition for college.

She may not be perfectly self-sufficient since she was living with Chad while filming this movie, but goddamnit, she was her own woman.

So why was she skulking in the dark praying that he was already asleep and didn’t really feel like keeping his promise to talk _later_. Because later has so many meanings, and Sonny really wanted later to mean never, even if she was completely mental for wanting to talk to him.

“You know, when we said later I didn’t think you meant three in the morning.”

She jumped at the voice coming from the dimly lit kitchen, turning to face him with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. “Jesus, Chad,” she breathed, grateful that she hadn’t shrieked. “You scared the life out of me.”

He smirked a little, but it wasn’t malicious. “Nah, you’re still breathing. I prefer you that way, you know.”

She stood there for a moment in the awkward silence, one hand still on the lock she’d just thrown, the other clutching the key he’d given her to his chest. She had no idea what to say, the glib words that normally could come so easily to her when dealing with Chad failing her. Hell, everything was failing her, because her heart was still hammering, and it wasn’t from fright. She’d never denied that Chad Dylan Cooper was an attractive boy. But Chad Cooper? The man was gorgeous.

And right now, all of Chad Cooper’s attention was on her.

“Come on then, let’s get you a cup of tea.” His eyes narrowed as one eyebrow quirked up. “Or have you been drinking while you were out on the town?”

She shook her head. “I don’t really like alcohol,” she admitted before following him as he turned back into the kitchen. He didn’t touch the lights. Neither did she.

“I know you don’t really want to talk,” he said as he poured her a mug and refilled what was obviously his own. “But if we’re going to make this movie work we need to get this done with.”

“When did you grow up so much?” she questioned him sardonically as she accepted the steaming cup and sat down next to him at the island with the sink. The stool was surprisingly comfortable, and sitting there with him in the dark didn’t seem as strange as she’d thought it would be.

“About the time I realized that the last thing I said to you was probably the cruelest thing I’ve ever said. I’m sorry, Sonny.”

“Allison,” she corrected him quietly, even though she had a creeping suspicion that he would never call her that.

He sipped at his tea while she stared at hers. “I was jealous,” he finally said. “I’d been working on the _Falls_ for so long; it was the first time we hadn’t even gotten a nomination. It was the first time you had, and you won. You were smart and brilliant and beautiful. Everyone loved you. I don’t even know why I wanted to take that all away from you.”

She offered something in a mumble, teenage boys and their strange issues with life. “I wasn’t ever going to speak to you again, you know,” she informed him, her voice heavy in the silence. Sonny shifted in the stool. “I think for an hour I even really hated you.”

“I deserved it.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I wanted to hate you for it. Your success.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He looked scared as he said it and she wondered why.

“Did you?”

He shook his head. “No. And then when you disappeared for weeks and no one would talk to me I started to think that I’d made you leave. I thought Marshall was going to get Mr. Condor to fire me.”

“He wouldn’t have done that. You guys were his big money makers.” She sounded so sure, even to herself, that Sonny couldn’t even fathom how he could have feared it. “We were just the strange and suddenly really popular funny kids.”

She finally sipped at the tea. It was smooth and tasted faintly sweet. “So how did you find out?”

He inhaled. Took a long drink of his own. Exhaled. “Mr. Condor sat everyone down a couple weeks after and told us all that you’d left _So Random_. For a minute I thought it was my fault, that I was about to get fired. Then Tawni started crying and the guys carted her off.”

He paused, took another drink. It appalled Sonny that in the middle of such a serious conversation she could be caught by the way the dim light from above the stove lit his profile, accented the pale gold of his hair. It wasn’t necessary, she knew that he knew now why she had left, but she said it anyway.

“It wasn’t your fault, though.”

“No. It wasn’t. It was a stupid guy driving drunk. But that didn’t change the way I felt about the whole mess.” This time when the silence stretched she didn’t try and break it. He did.

“I hired a P.I. I needed to know what happened, that you were okay. I was still under the impression that you’d believed me and left because of that night. When he told me that your parents were dead I thought… I thought he was trying to break it to me gently that you were, too.”

Chad leaned back in his seat, hands splayed on the cool granite of the counter. “All I could think about was that you’d died and the last thing I’d ever said to you made you cry.”

Sonny could barely breathe, she was terrified that he would realize how close to tears she was now. She was still raw and overly sensitive from the memories she’d pulled on to film that morning. This on top of it was making a searing heat build behind her eyes, the familiar feeling of tears making her blink and look away.

“He told me that you were alive. That you were going to live, that you were in the hospital but fine. I didn’t learn that his definition of fine was that you’d barely survived until a lot later.” He paused again to take a sip of tea. Sonny heard his breathe hitch as he breathed, like he was trying to fight the strength of those memories.

“I’ll admit that I pried where I shouldn’t have. I think I knew more details about the accident and your parents’ deaths than you did at the time. I didn’t know what to do but I had to know.” He shrugged. “It was stupid and probably callous of me. I had no business doing it. But I never told anyone I had.”

“But you still knew?”

“I still knew.”

She chewed on her lip as she mulled it over. “I think Zora knew you knew. Some of the things she’s said to me in the last few years make more sense when I look at it like that.”

He chuckled. At least, she thought he did. It sounded more pained than amused. “Zora was precocious. Then and now.”

“You talk to her?” Sonny couldn’t hide the surprise, especially since Zora had never once told Sonny that she was still in touch with Chad.

“Not really. We exchange e-mails sometimes. She’s still with Condor, she tells me what’s going on there, how her show is. Stuff like that. Sometimes she tells me about Tawni’s latest project, or about Nico’s standup shows.”

“Did she tell you that Grady bought into a restaurant?”

Now the laugh was genuine. “Yeah. She said it was supposed to be Planet Hollywood, only without all of the big-name celebs signing anything that didn’t move. I went the last time I was in L.A. It was pretty good. Well, the food was,” he amended. “The atmosphere was kind of…”

“Grady has always lacked subtlety,” Sonny deadpanned.

“That’s one way of putting it,” he agreed. She had to bite back the need to laugh, grateful that it was overriding her urge to cry. “I think that if he puts up even one more neon sign that you’d be able to see it from space.”

“Oh? I’d heard you already could.”

The laughter was good, easy, frighteningly warm. Somehow Sonny had gone from fearing Chad and this conversation to wanting to keep talking. The yawn that took her cut her laughter short, and Chad’s laughing turned to an amused chuckle.

“I think it’s past your bedtime, Sonny-girl. Let’s get you tucked in.”

“I’m not five,” she told him dryly, but didn’t argue when he took her half empty tea and dumped it down the sink. The habitual way he rinsed both mugs and turned them upside down in the drainer was entrancing for a moment, something that (more than anything else, it seemed) told her that this really wasn’t Chad Dylan Cooper.

“What?” he asked, turning back to her. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Sonny flushed at being caught staring.

“You’re not the boy I knew at all, anymore.”

He smiled a little, a ghost of one, but genuine still. “No, not really. Life does that.”

“Not to everyone.”

“Chad Dylan still exists. In L.A. That’s where he lives, parties, makes the media furor that my agent loves.” He rolled his eyes and ushered her up and down the hall. “I prefer it here. A nice quiet life, my place, and some good friends who don’t think I’m throwing away my future by funding indie films.”

She paused at the split in the hall where he would go left to his room and she would go right to hers. “Writing them, too,” she added good-naturedly.

His demeanor changed a little, the hint of serious back in a heartbeat. “Yeah, writing them, too. Try and get some good sleep, huh, Sonny? We have to film all of those montages between Erin and Colin tomorrow.”

“I’ll be ready. It’s my job, after all.”


	6. Chapter 6

They’d started first thing at Buckingham Palace with a single camera carried by their most competent cameraman. Technically he supposed they should have applied for a permit before filming there, but they’d been there and gone in twenty minutes, just long enough to see the changing of the guard and to get a few good shots of ‘Colin’ showing it off to ‘Erin.’ Sonny had been just as delighted as her character should have been, which Chad figured was nothing short of amazing.

He’d learned how to spend sleepless nights and still be presentable for shooting before dawn; he never expected it from Sonny. But then, Chad was never quite sure what to expect from Sonny. For all he knew her time earning her theatre degree had been populated by sleepless nights and full days of class. His stalking hadn’t included learning everything about her life between then and now. Just why she’d left Hollywood and him.

But she was there for the days outline at nine and when shooting and her interest in the tidbits of fact he’d fed her as they watched the Corps of Drums escort the change had done little more than endear her further. She’d been fascinated when he’d pointed at the color marches along the Mall and explained that they used different ones when the queen was in residence.

When she’d learned that the queen was the smile she’d given him had lit up his morning more than the sun was already shining. It never failed to amaze him the power of her smile and, for just a few moments, he could almost pretend that she was his sunny Sonny from when they’d been teenagers again. Only this time he wasn’t struck with the desire to pick and poke at her just to get her attention.

He already had. Even if it was just for a film.

The little hesitance that had been there at the start was gone and Chad was grateful like that. It almost seemed like giving her a free pass, letting it lie as it had at three in the morning, but Chad wasn’t really going try and hash everything between them out before a full day of shooting. Especially since the shooting was practically stalking (in his mind) for all of the friendly and romantic scenes around London that the film was going to call for.

Granted, more than half of it was going to be utter garbage, and another quarter would be cut for minor artistic issues. In the end Chad figured it would take a miracle for more than five minutes of it to be used. Such was the life of a filmmaker. At least Chad would have a say in what stayed and what went, because he had a few ideas up his sleeves that he hadn’t told Owen or Sonny about, to try and make the most out of the day.

He was certainly taking advantage of the days film schedule to give Sonny an informal tour of his adopted home—and it was pretty important to him that she love it as much as he did since he considered London his primary residence. Of course, he didn’t really want to admit to himself why he needed her to love it so much, but he did know nonetheless.

To sweeten the hectic schedule of costume changes and headlong rushing through the London throngs Chad had even brought his own bit of spending money. He knew that she was working on limited fund (not that he was prying, but why else would she be living with him instead of finding her own space?) and when the crew moved from Buckingham to Camden Market in time for the early lunch crowd he spent an entire hour of the filming taking her into shops and showing her the booths and buying her a few trinkets under the guise of the scene.

He’d tell her later that they were hers to keep, especially the pretty silver bracelet with the blue glass jewel. He’d have to get her to wear it when they moved scene again, he decided as he ushered her to the Lock Market on the canal.

“This is amazing, Chad,” she told him as they paused just inside. “Why don’t they have places like this in the States?”

He chuckled a little. “I’m pretty sure they do, but I’ve never been personally.” He slipped an arm around her as Jason with the camera moved around to the right. “I usually get mobbed the second I step foot out of my house over there. It’s a lot more laid back here.”

“It is different,” she agreed before dragging him to one of the tables set out with vegetables and fruit.

He just followed her, content to let her lead the way as he rambled on about anything he might know about Camden and the shops there. They ended up in the Levi’s Centre next to the Doc Martens front; she bought a pair of jeans that Chad swore he’d pay for and she threatened to kick his shins in. so he let that one go in favor of being able to bribe her with something from Harrods before they hit the Eye.

She wore blue in Camden with black jeans, was shoved into a green sweater and a gray skirt when they toured around Big Ben. “Did you know that if you live the right distance away you can hear the clock chime thirteen on New Year’s and then again on the television?” he asked her. She shook her head in disbelief and he laughed and pressed a casual kiss to her hair.

Covent Gardens was a little different and took more time than either he or Owen had planned on because of a street performer in the midst of a show. At least half of it was on film and it took Chad and Owen half an hour to talk the man around to signing a waiver in the event the footage was used. He finally consented when Chad, ever the savvy entrepreneur, pointed out that it was like free advertising on movie screens across the world. Neither man mentioned that widespread screenings were still not a done deal.

But inside Covent, Sonny was fascinated with everything, especially the flowers. Chad made another mental note to take her to the flower market on a day they weren’t shooting just to buy her something pretty and flowering. _At this rate,_ he thought wryly, _I’ll be lucky to remember who I am much less all of the places I want to show her._

But they shopped through Covent and then he took her outside to the market area under nothing but air and arched glass. She was in yellow now and the light just danced along her skin and hair. Owen, Chad knew, must be rolling with giddiness over the footage he was getting. Colin was a distant thought in his mind but he was still following Sonny around like a love stricken sop.

Chad let them be wrapped into coats for a quick tour outside of Parliament before moving to Trafalgar Square and the massive fountain there. The sun was beginning to head towards setting and Chad didn’t need to check his watch to know that it was nearing four. He’d made the suggestion to put Sonny in red; the thin sweater clung to her like her own skin.

“You look beautiful, you know,” he said after a moment of watching the cascade. Chad wasn’t sure if she heard him over the crowds of people and tourists around. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to hear; he was half afraid that she would think it was Colin speaking to Erin and not Chad to Sonny. He was half afraid she would know that he meant it, all of it, with everything he was.

The shy sidelong smile she gave him wasn’t really reassuring, nor was the hand that reached for his, threading her slender fingers through his own. That was too much like Erin for him, but Chad took it gratefully, not willing to let a chance to touch her pass.

“You’re very good at this,” she finally said at length. Sonny’s fingers were tight in his as Chad let his thumb trace circles on her palm.

“I should be,” he informed her. “I’m an actor.”

She sent a ghost of a smile his way then leaned against him for a moment. “So you must have all of your female costars weak at the knees with five word sentences.”

This part would wind up cut. Chad knew it as the surprise raced across his face. “By saying they’re beautiful? Not at all, they hear it all the time. Don’t you?” The earnestness in his voice was equally surprising, but Chad couldn’t believe that Sonny wasn’t well aware of her beauty.

Fine cream skin, sable dark hair, and eyes that you could drown in? Any man, and some women for that matter, would tell her constantly how lovely she was. He told her so and Sonny pulled away from him.

“You’d think that, I’m sure,” she told him as she moved to sit on the edge of the massive fountain and sat. “You’re the first person who’s told me that in a long while.”

“Well that’s utter shit,” Chad blurted out. Sonny’s head jerked up, startled eyes wide as he reached out to her and pulled her up. “You’re beautiful, you’re gorgeous, and anyone who says otherwise or fails to tell you that at least a hundred times a day is a fucking moron.”

She stared at him for a moment and Chad realized how close she was, practically pressed up against his body as he stared heatedly at her. “Um, thanks?” She breathed the words out and then chuckled. “I bet Owen’s glad that there’s going to be sound editing for all of this.” She flushed red and Chad let out a laugh.

“Yeah. I’m sure he is.” Then he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her mouth.

She tasted like the coffee she’d inhaled while they’d travelled to the Square, like the lip gloss Jennifer in costumes must have painted on her lips, but under that Chad could taste the Chapstick that he’d seen Sonny carry around in her purse or her pocket. It was strange, but as Chad pulled back, wondering what Sonny was going to do to him, he knew that he was going to buying a tube of that Chapstick before they made it back to his flat tonight.

For a long few minutes she didn’t do anything but watch him with wary eyes, one hand brushing fingers across her lips, the other clenched in his shirt. Then she stepped back and turned away.

“You’re very good at that, Chad,” she told him. Then she strode back past the camera. Chad heard her telling Owen that she needed a break. He just stood there.

Owen was bound to be pissed about this and Chad wasn’t looking forward to what he would have to say. His fears weren’t quite founded though, because Owen only strolled over, his viewfinder in hand as he appeared to be considering shots.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing, mate?” Owen asked as he sighted through the lens without looking at Chad.

Chad’s eyebrows lifted, a sarcastic comment ready to come out.

“Because if you’re going to tell me that whole scene was for the courtesy of the camera I’m going to have to call you a liar.”

“Well, fuck,” Chad exhaled.

Owen smirked. “Well said, Coop. When she comes back try and remember her name is Erin, not Allison or Sonny or anything but that. I’ll have Natalie talk to her so we can get this finished. I want to get to the Eye before the sun sets. We won’t need ambient light in Harrods and the West End is always best at night.”

“Bastard,” Chad groused halfheartedly.

“Prick would be more like,” Owen corrected him with a smug smile. “Tell her about the pigeons when we start shooting again. That ought to give us some good raw film.”

Chad resisted the urge to flip Owen off as he sauntered back to Jason. Directing was in the man’s blood. He’d already let the little… Spat? Would that be what it was called? Whatever it was, it wasn’t on Owen’s mind anymore as he talked to Jason and framed desired angles with his hands, checking and rechecking with the viewfinder. Only in the busy heart of London could a man be directing a scene in a movie with barely an eye batted.

When Sonny came back out she was freshly glossed, hair smooth around her face and eyes distant. Chad sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

 

Jennifer put Sonny back in blue for the Eye. Chad refused to complain because he’d told Jennifer that Sonny needed to wear the bracelet he’d bought in Camden. It was a good segue for the montage, once it was printed, since it would obviously show Colin buying it for Erin. It was fitting that Erin was wearing it now, especially since Chad had Owen’s blessing to kiss her again.

He was looking forward to that one a great deal more than he should. It irked Chad that he couldn’t tell if Sonny was at all, one way or the other.

“So you expect me just to walk onto it and let it take me hundreds of feet up in the air?” she was asking him. Sonny hands were in an iron grip around his wrist. If he could have been amused at her nerves Chad might have laughed, or just teased her into annoyance so that she would forget the part where she was four-hundred feet in the air. As it was he was still trying not to look too pleased at the way the fading sun made the blue glass shine prettily against her shirt.

“Chad,” she hissed. “Are you serious? I have to go on this thing?”

“Hundreds of people do it every day, Sonny-girl,” he pointed out. “I’m sure that the imp of the perverse isn’t waiting for you to hop on before making it tumble into the Thames.”

“Why did you have to say that?” she almost wailed.

“Come on, Sonny.” Chad pulled her hands from his wrist and wrapped her arm around his. “It’s easy, you just step on and enjoy the view. Nothing simpler.”

Sonny grumbled as she followed him uneasily. “Falling into the Thames is a lot simpler.”

This time Chad couldn’t find any way to stop the laugh. “After all of the money they’ve invested in this, I doubt we’re going to be taking a swim. Come _on_ , Sonny. We can’t start filming till we’re all on.”

Her eyes were clenched closed but Chad paid it no mind as he took her to one of the ends of the oval carriage. “I can distract you really well. It’ll put you to sleep. It’s like geometry, just without the math.”

One eye cracked open. “Did you really just say that?”

“Mmhm. I say things like that all the time.”

“So you sound stupid all the time?”

Chad poked her nose. “Touché, funny-Sonny. Insulting me is only going to make me tell you exactly how high we’re about to go.”

She whimpered.

“Alright, moving on.” As the carriage rose in the air Chad slipped behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist. The camera started rolling as soon as they cleared the first twenty feet, but Chad ignored it in favor of distracting the tense woman in his arms.

“So I’ve shown you the bright side of London so far, but the Eye itself has a really sordid history, did you know that?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just continued to plow on ahead. The story of the rent raising for one of the land a single strut was on did much to take her mind away from it, and by the time they reached the top Sonny was relaxed. He smiled and pressed his lips to the smooth skin of her neck just above the collar of the blue shirt.

“Now that you’re not scared to death, look,” he told her. The way she breathed in at the sunset from the Eye made knowing the useless information he’d just imparted worth the boredom that had driven him to learn it years before.

“It’s beautiful.”

He couldn’t have agreed more, but Chad didn’t say anything, just held onto her and laid his head against hers as he watched the sun sinking. She sighed and Chad almost jumped when her hands dropped to cover his at her waist.

“Do you remember that thing with James?” He nodded with his chin pressed in to her shoulder. “It was so over the top. We’re much better at it now.”

 

He still had to find a way to tell her that tomorrow would be a non-shooting morning, a lunch scene in the afternoon, and a love scene after the sun set for the night. Oh, that was going to go over so well. They’d known each other again for barely a week, been on truly friendly terms for less than that, and they already had to play to passion and love.

Actually, Chad wasn’t worried about doing it himself so much as how she would take the news. He should never have listened to Owen when the man had told him to tell her “It’ll come better from you, Coop, you’ve known her for years.” Bullshit. And he was going to have to break it to her without letting it slip how much he was looking forward to it. Sure, it would be utterly fake on her part. He had faith that it wouldn’t appear so.

He just really hoped that no one, Owen included even if his friend had to have suspicions by now, and Sonny especially, realized that it wasn’t mere acting on his part.

He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind as he slipped an arm around her waist. She leaned into him as if she was completely infatuated with him as he smiled. “And this is Harrods,” he instructed her as he ushered her inside, the cameras rolling as Owen and the much beleaguered Jason followed them in.

“I have it on good authority that you can buy anything here, up to and including masochistic goats if you want one.”

“Oh, god,” she laughed at him. “That’s insane. And oh my god, it’s so expensive here! Is that tie really a hundred pounds?”

He hmm’d and leaned over to inspect the tag on it. “It’s Hermes. And it’s a hundred and seven pounds.”

“That’s what? Two hundred American?”

“More like a hundred and seventy-five.”

“Oh. A big difference. Do people actually pay that much for a tie?” Chad shrugged a she fingered the material.

“Ooh, pretty,” she suddenly squealed, every bit the girl he’d known five years ago as she saw a table of scarves and headed for them, dragging him along as her hand automatically slid to his to pull.

“You’re such a girl,” he teased, and she huffed before ignoring him in favor of the bright colors.

“So do these get worn as actual scarves?” she asked him, a bright red and orange one in her hands as she slid her fingers along the smooth silky material. “They’re awful thin. How do you keep your neck warm?”

“These are more for fashion, not for warmth.”

“Oh.” Her eyes glanced up at him. “Wisconsin girl. I’m used to scarves being for cold weather.”

Chad pulled the scarf from her hands before looping it around her neck and letting it slide down her shoulders and back. It settled on her waist and he held his hands together as if to tie it off. “They’ve got lots of uses, even if it’s just decoration. At your waist if you’re wearing a dress or a long sweater.”

She bit her lip as he slipped the scarf loose and then draped it over her hair. “You can use them to hold your hair back, or just to accent it. This color is amazing on yours.”

It was slight, but he could see her pulse beating faster against her neck. The kiss that Owen had told him to give her on the Eye, the kiss that he hadn’t, rested heavy in Chad’s mind.

“But it’s still the height of fashion to wear it at the neck,” he told her, trying not to think about how soft he was talking to her, the need that ached through his veins.

The scarf was too delicate in his hands as he tugged on it a little, the loose fabric at the back of her neck sliding forward until she came with it, closer to him as he lowered his head infinitesimally. In that moment Chad didn’t really care that there was a camera filming them, that he was supposed to be Colin, Sonny was supposed to be Erin, and that they were supposed to be acting.

When his lips met hers for the second time that day he stifled the needy groan in the back of his throat as he kissed her, trying for all the world not to frighten her, not to make her want to tell him to stop. She didn’t, her mouth moving under his and her hands coming to rest at his hips, the sweater he was wearing bunched in her hands and her nails gripping his sides.

She was kissing him back. Or she was kissing Colin. He didn’t much care, really. All he could think that was that she was a damned good actress, and how much he wished she weren’t.


	7. Chapter 7

It was only for film, but Sonny still couldn’t deny the undeniable pleasure of being shown London. Chad was practically native, she’d learned. He’d been living there eleven months out of the year for at least three years and actually had places he went to regularly. He’d promised to take her, a promise she was alternately looking forward to him keeping and dreading because of the way he’d kissed her the day before.

The first time in Trafalgar Square had been something of a shock. She wasn’t at all certain why he’d done it, if it was ‘scripted’ between him and Owen or not. She knew for a fact that Owen had cleared them for a kiss on the Eye, but that hadn’t happened. But the kiss in Harrods?

Wow. Just wow.

The spark that she’d felt, the heat that it had spurred. Sonny hadn’t been able to forget it even when they’d moved on to what Chad explained being the heart of nightlife. Piccadilly Circus in the West End, and what a place it had been. Lit by glitz and neon and the sheer energy of it all. Tourists and natives mingling for nothing more than a good time or a show.

She wanted to see the cabaret. It wasn’t on the shooting schedule, but she’d try to get away one night when they weren’t shooting. The only real plus was that after the new day’s shoot, mostly her nights would be free. She had thrown a coin and a wish into the Anteros fountain there before Chad took her to dinner. That had been relaxed, thank god, even after Harrods, and the camera had stayed far enough away that she could pretend it wasn’t there and enjoy the meal and Chad’s company.

They’d spent more time catching up, but mostly with her letting him talk as she asked questions that let her get some insight on the man he was now.

After they’d broken filming for the night (with Owen extremely pleased with the raw footage the day had netted, especially the kiss in Harrods that she was assured would definitely be making the finished film) they’d caught a taxi back to Chad’s apartment. Now if only he hadn’t waited till then to tell her what they’d be shooting today. She might have gotten some sleep if she’d been able to work out the nerves before they’d stopped shooting.

In less than twelve hours she was going to have to crawl into a bed with Chad Cooper and pretend to be madly in love with him. Or at least lust, because they were going to have sex. Or Colin and Erin where; they were just supposed to make it look convincing.

Until then she was going to pretend to be having a lovely lunch with Colin and force herself firmly into character. They were currently occupying a corner of the outdoor seating of a little deli near St. James park, and it was quite picturesque. It was easy to lose herself in the character and flash a smile at Chad as he reeled off his lines.

“Mostly I’m here till I run out of money,” she said ruefully. It was supposed to be early on in the characters’ acquaintance, and the lines they were working on now were fairly generic ‘getting to know you’ fare. Sonny didn’t mind; even if it was hauntingly like her life after her parents died, the nerves she was currently trying to shunt away managed to make it mostly painless.

Chad’s eyes glinted making her think that he knew what she was thinking, but he didn’t break the scene. “It’s pretty interesting that your mom wanted you to spend all of the money on a trip like this.”

She nodded a little and took a sip of the soda she’d ordered as Erin. “I spent a lot of time taking care of Mom. I think she felt bad about that. I withdrew from school in my last semester to do it. But I wouldn’t change that—I can always go back and get my last few credits.”

“It’d be pedestrian to say that’s noble,” he told her as he picked at his food. “But that’s what it is.”

She demurred, glancing down. “You’d do the same. Anyone would.”

The way he hesitated and changed the subject was well done, even if it was scripted. Even if Sonny knew the in’s and out’s of the script and the issues Chad’s character had with his parents, she couldn’t deny that Chad was a born actor. He didn’t even hesitate on how to play the scene. Though, she decided, it was entirely possible—since he’d helped write the script—he’d been planning how to play the role since it was done.

She didn’t think that was the case though, because a good actor, a really good actor like he was, used the cues from his costars to enhance the script. Chad did it brilliantly. She did, too, if it wasn’t too conceited to feel that way. But Sonny was a fan of chemistry between characters; her own favorite movies and shows were made so because of the interaction of the characters, the undercurrents between their actors.

They had it. She wanted to deny it, to think that it was just a friendly chemistry, but even now her body felt a little too warm sitting across from him. Even as he let his lines trip carelessly, even as she responded in kind, she could still remember the warm pressure of his mouth, the taste of him.

Oh, they had chemistry. The same chemistry she remembered from when she was fifteen and denied like it was plague. Only now? Now it was chemistry squared with the added tension of being adults.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go to dinner? I go every Tuesday with a few friends, then we head for the pub after,” Chad offered as Colin. “You don’t have to, we’re practically strangers, but if you want to?”

The uncertainty he was playing up had Sonny herself feeling the sudden need to reassure him. Her hand reached across the table to cover his where it was flat next to his water glass, a result of the chemistry between them she logically knew, but it worked for the scene and the momentum of the moment.

“I’d like that, Colin. I’d like that a lot.” She smiled at him, a small but not very shy smile and Owen’s “cut” split the moment.

“That was fantastic, you two,” Owen lauded them. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you were just getting to know each other.”

Sonny flushed a little and took the moment to drain her soda. She needed the caffeine after her sleepless night (and she was going to take measures to avoid that again after what Jennifer had to say about the circles under her eyes before the shoot) and honestly, she just couldn’t look at Chad just now. She felt like she was just getting to know him these last few days. Somehow, she was sure he felt the same, at least a little.

The camera was being reset for fresh film, she knew they were going to have to reshoot a little because Owen was adamant that multiple angles gave nuance to the finished product. Sonny wasn’t going to argue; he was the director and you never argued with the director. Unless he was wrong. Besides, Owen was very open about what he was doing, how and why, and Sonny had to agree that he was pretty awesome at his job. If this didn’t bring him to the forefront of his field and into the eyes of his peers, she’d eat her shoes without sauce.

“And while we’re doing this set, the both of you, stop playing footsie beneath the table.” Owen’s eyes were sparkling bright green with laughter and Sonny flushed brick red. Across the table Chad was glancing at her but she lacked the ability to read his face just then as she jerked her feet back under her chair.

She hadn’t even realized their feet were twined during the scene.

“You can save that for tonight, right? Alright, the, let’s get on with it before we get the boot. The manager is already making eyes at me because we’re blocking up his revenue.”

She was suddenly dizzy as the blush turned to flush. She still wasn’t to terms with the fact that she was going to be writhing beneath Chad before the night was over. And in front of people. Oh god.

“Any particular instructions other than that?” Chad asked Owen with a quirk of his lips. Sonny cast a grateful glance at Chad. He didn’t see it, his eyes focused on Owen and taking in the last minute things Owen was now imparting and Sonny settled her mind to the task of listening and obeying.

“Set scene,” Owen boomed after he finished listing his few demands and heading back out of camera way. “And action.”

Sonny breathed in and then looked up at Chad. His eyes were warm on hers.

“So how long will you be in London, Erin?” She bent to the job she was being paid for.

 

Hyperventilating wasn’t how she wanted to spend the last few minutes before starting the love scene, but Sonny wasn’t sure if she was going to be able to avoid it. She’d managed well enough when Jennifer was working on her back; a thin past of latex had been painted across the scars on her back and then blended with makeup. She was fortunate that when she’d been in the emergency room someone had recognized her; once she’d been stabilized they’d brought a plastic surgeon in to deal with the damage on her back. The result was fairly smooth skin, just with a great deal of thin pink lines all across.

The only reason they were using the latex was because it was already skin toned and if the makeup was worn off by the, oh god, time she was about to spend on her back, it wouldn’t be overly noticeable.

“Back to the not being able to do it stage?”

Chad’s voice was casual next to her and Sonny jumped in her seat. “Damn it, Chad, don’t sneak up on me. And I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, but you will be,” he assured her. “Try taking a breath. Count to four while you do it. Same thing when you breathe out. It’ll help.”

She tried but her nerves were jumping too much. “I haven’t done this before,” she admitted.

“Never?”

She felt the blood rising to her face. “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re insinuating. But I’ve never filmed a scene like this before.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw tension slide along his jaw.

“I’d say it’s like riding a bicycle, but it isn’t.” The attempted joke fell flat, but Sonny smiled a little. He continued on, “It’ll be alright, though, if we just continue on like we were at Harrods. There’s lead up. It’s when Owen wants to play with his multiple angles that we’re going to get frustrated.”

“Oh?”

He raised a hand to rub the back of his neck looking a little sheepish. “I should have thought to talk to you about this last night instead of running away.”

“You ran away?”

“Well, I told you and bolted. Counts in my book.”

“Oh, Chad,” Sonny sighed, torn between wanting to smack him and pat his shoulder. “Well, explain why it’s frustrating.”

“We have to try and remember what we do the first time, to kind of outline it, so we can stick to the outline with each subsequent take. It’s a pain in the ass,” he affirmed as she thought it. “But Owen can always splice the film where we break routine. It’s not like we’ve been practicing. That would be a little weird.”

She gaped at him. “Have you ever practiced a love scene?”

Chad coughed and Owen called their names. “Saved by the director,” he punned. “Come on, let’s get this done with.”

And like that the nerves were back. Only this time, the scene she’d been dreading was coming to fruition. Owen showed them the staging and Sonny pointedly avoided looking at the bed when he walked them through that part of the apartment that had been rented. The idea was that Erin and Colin were returning from a night out and the love, lust, passion, need built up enough that one or the other threw caution to the wind and instigated the sexual encounter.

Sonny’s mind was repeatedly reminded of the kiss and the Hermes scarf that Chad had ended up buying. She was actually wearing it now, though she doubted he’d use it again the same way. He was too good to reuse that moment. No, she was weak in the knees wondering what he’d do with it tonight.

“Places.”

Owen’s call cut through and made Sonny jerk stiffly next to Chad. They were starting at the apartment door, they were about to start. Her first love scene. With Chad. Somehow, she thought the Imp of the perverse had saved her from rolling into the Thames just to send her into cardiac arrest.

“Action.”

She took a breath and turned to Chad. He was smiling at her; Sonny knew it was Chad doing it, not Colin, but somehow the knowledge didn’t unnerve her. It was almost reassuring. The fact that she was the one to move to him wasn’t.

The lip gloss that had been applied was slick between their mouths as she kissed him, his hands were tight at her waist. When he shifted her to push her against the currently closed apartment door she let him, trying desperately to store the pattern in her mind in case they needed to reshoot this part. Mostly she just wanted to let go and enjoy the moment. His hands were sliding up, bringing the light jacket she was wearing with it. The air in the hallway was cool on her suddenly overheated skin making Sonny shiver.

“It’s too cold for this out here,” he breathed against her mouth as he pulled back. The heat in his eyes warmed her against all rational thought, but she nodded as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. They were blanks that were tooled to fit the lock, not actually work it, but Chad played the scene well, opening the door and tugging her in.

Within moments he had her pressed against the wall, body against hers and hands working the zipper of the jacket. She whimpered a little when his lips found purchase on her throat. She almost forgot that she needed to call him Colin and not Chad, but she remembered it at the last, her head falling back till her eyes were closed. The jacket was gone in short order and they began the route to the waiting bedroom and bed as Chad shrugged his own coat off.

Scripted or not, Sonny found herself enjoying the slow slide of pulling his cotton shirt up his body. The kiss she pressed to his chest as he finished removing it was an added bonus in her mind.

“So damned beautiful. You know that, don’t you?” he asked her. She tried to smile coyly but it wouldn’t come. It wasn’t in her and it wasn’t in Erin, either, which made the not quite shy but nowhere near bold curving of her lips work perfectly.

The bed hit the back of her knees before she was ready for it, but Chad’s arms were around her, lowering her carefully to it. He pushed the sweater she was wearing up to press his mouth against her stomach, his fingers brushing the bottom of her bra, skimming up to loosely cup her breasts. “Yes,” she breathed, helping him pull the material up till it was an afterthought on the floor.

She was certain her eyes were lust addled when he dropped to his knees to pull her boots off, run his hands up her calves and thighs. It was erotic, not exactly what she thought of when she’d tried to think about doing this in front of strangers. The button of her jeans was an easy thing to undo. Somehow, lying on the strange bed in nothing but her bra and panties wasn’t as odd as she pictured.

Of course, the fact that she was watching Chad shimmy out of his own shoes and jeans was fairly distracting. Now was when it would get interesting; she knew that the bra would have to go, and that there were identical sets of underthings for both of them tucked within the bed to simulate the removal of those particular items. She only hoped that she didn’t fail the scene when the bra went. She had on flesh covered latex things, but she would still feel naked in the moments before they were covered by the sheet. Even in the dim light she was sure she’d flub it by blushing. Maybe they could play it off as the rise of sex on her skin.

It had been a long time since she’d had a lover. She’d only had one and she’d always felt a little strange beneath him. The weight of Chad above her wasn’t strange at all, to her surprise, nor was the warmth of his breath against her ear as he whispered into it.

“Doing alright.” It was practically a chuckle if she ignored the fact that he was almost naked above her.

She didn’t say anything, only shifted to give him access to the clasp of the bra. It was flung away with apparent abandon; from the corner of her eye she saw it nearly hit Jason and the camera. That was going to be something refilmed, she was sure. She didn’t care.

He ‘divested’ her of her underwear and his boxers followed, the sheet concealing the apparent nudity as he settled into the cradle of her thighs. The way her eyes went wide was another thing she was sure would have to be shot again, but Sonny hadn’t expected what she felt. Chad, quite obviously aroused, pressed against her most intimate parts.

She almost said his name. Almost. She caught it before it crossed her lips and was thankful for being able to kiss him again, the desire to say it sublimated into the move of his mouth and hers. _Oh god._ Her mind was beginning to shut down, the scene memory wanting to erode away as his hands skimmed her skin, her nails digging into his back. He was good at this.

Sonny was beginning to want to exactly how good. Sonny didn’t really care that she was, either.

“Erin?” the questioning hesitancy in his voice was perfect, driving the fact that they were acting back to the forefront of her mind and pushing the lust down a little.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, please, Colin.”

The twist of his hips against hers drove a needy whimper out of Sonny. He moved again and she had to bite her lip to not wish vocally for more. She let the scene drive her, let the moment between them goad him until the apparent culmination. The kiss he placed to her sweaty brow right before Owen called cut felt right, perfect and real.

“Alright, let’s reset and start it from the bed,” Owen instructed. Sonny breathed in, counting to four. Chad was right; this was going to be really frustrating. But she was going to enjoy the hell out of it.


	8. Chapter 8

Chad didn’t like the fact that he suddenly felt the need to tiptoe around Sonny. They’d been filming almost continually for the last two days and collapsing in exhaustion afterwards did a great deal to help him avoid having to think too much about what had happened with Sonny on the bed that was supposed to be Colin’s. The frustration he was living with now was slowly tearing him apart because Chad knew—he didn’t know how he knew, but he _knew_ —that it hadn’t been Colin and Erin there.

It had been, in great part, Chad and Sonny. And that was gratifying. Frustrating, but gratifying; he’d been forced to try an ice cold shower when they’d finished and gone home. In the end that had failed and Chad had resorted to an exquisitely detailed mental replay of the entire shoot and some much needed self-gratification. But it didn’t change the fact that the things he’d felt when he was sixteen and first meeting her, the things that had grown into nearly an obsession, were still there as much as they’d ever been.

And Sonny felt it too.

It provoked an undying curiosity in him about whether she’d been victim to the raging need she’d succumbed to during that night’s shoot years ago, but Chad wasn’t crazy enough to ask her. Not now. Not yet. Even if he wanted to.

The fact that she was on the other end of his couching slowly losing the battle to sleep helped him fight the desire to ask that question. The distance between them, the careful distance she had been maintaining (and he, too, had assisted in that) was obvious now. She was curled there trying to watch the movie she’d chosen and he was settled on his end watching her.

Oh, discretely of course. He didn’t think she knew he was. But Chad couldn’t bring himself to care over much if she did. He’d told her the truth each time he’d told her how beautiful she was. She simply captivated him with it.

They’d been living together for a week now, Chad mused as he glanced at the television. The sudden burst of noise from it had made Sonny’s eyes dart wide but Chad had seen the movie often enough to not feel he was missing anything. He was a guy, sure, and action and beautiful women were easy to watch. But after the first time even Chad had to admit that this movie was plotless, just giant robots fighting in some very wicked scenes, and Megan Fox’s ass. A nice ass, but Chad preferred Sonny Monroe’s.

But a week they’d been living together. The first few days had been admittedly rough. Between the history that had still hung between them and the way she’d been wary around him, Chad was surprised that they were so easy together now. If it weren’t for the fact that the careful distance between them was mutual, Chad would think that they were a contented couple easy in each other’s’ silence by now.

They almost were. He really wanted them to be. The understanding that he was still in love with her made it an even greater desire than to have her in his bed. But Chad wasn’t going to push it. Chemistry or no, if Sonny decided that a relationship with him wasn’t going to happen Chad would take anything he could get from her gratefully.

But… He did think that they would be good together. Out of bed, and in it.

He had to shift as the memory of that night came back. She’d been so responsive, so eager to touch him, to kiss him, to whisper sweet pleadings for more, now, don’t stop _please_ don’t stop. And while Chad had to come home and deal with the sexual frustration she’d given him, he had more than a sneaking suspicion that he’d managed to take care of hers in front of everyone present and the camera itself.

And that? That made him a very happy man. _You’re awful good at this,_ she’d whispered to him after the third take, but the languor in her body, the way she’d shivered beneath him as he’d pressed himself against her to simulate (and stimulate) couldn’t have been all acting. No one was that good, not even him.

Sonny moved on the other end of the couch bringing Chad back to the present. She was settling further against the arm, her eyes fully closed now and her breathing starting to even out. Further proof that she was beginning to slip into true sleep was the way that she was uncurling. Her legs were stretched out now and her feet just brushing his thigh.

Chad bit back a growl as he realized that, should her feet manage to find their way to his lap, she would realize that he wasn’t relaxed and nonchalant. Of course, maybe the fact that just thinking about her beneath him was turning him on so much would be appreciated knowledge.

Another boom came from the television, the surround sound making it echo in the living room. Sonny didn’t move at all as Chad watched her. No, she was asleep now. It was half past ten and she was already gone.

He should wake her up. He should tell her to go on to bed. Instead he reached for the remote and lowered the volume, turned off the surround sound, and turned the movie off. He could find reruns of _Doctor Who_ to entertain him, or possibly he still had the Christopher Eccelston season loaded into his DVD carousel. Watching that and letting her sleep was a completely acceptable option.

The fact that he did indeed have that particular series loaded and was already into the first episode, one hand casually rubbing one of Sonny’s legs as he sat there, must have been enough of a jinx on him to make the phone ring. And not just any phone: Sonny’s cell phone.

“Shit,” he swore, afraid that she’d wake up. She’d be up half the night with a mere thirty minutes under her belt, and that would be cruel on her knowing how tired she was.

He fled his seat on the couch as quickly and unobtrusively as he could, swiping her mooing phone from the coffee table and heading for the relative distance of the kitchen. “Hello,” he said without checking the caller ID, in his haste trying to stop the phone before it mooed again.

“Who the hell is this?” a voice demanded from the other end.

“This is Chad, Sonny can’t come to the phone,” he replied racking his brain to identify the voice. He knew it, Chad knew exactly who it was… “Nico?”

“The one and only,” was the easy response. “What’d you do to Sonny?”

If Nico had sounded even a hint hostile Chad wouldn’t have blamed him. Instead he found himself unyieldingly glad that the other man only sounded a little concerned.

“She’s asleep, it’s been a rough couple of days shooting.”

“Already? I checked the time change and everything, otherwise I’d still be asleep.” Nico sounded chagrined that he’d missed Sonny but not too put out that Chad had answered her phone. “So what are you don’t answering her phone?”

He’d spoken too soon. Chad almost laughed but managed to contain it to a very quiet chuckle. “I didn’t want it too moo her awake.”

“Her phone still moos?” Nico was laughing loudly on his end. “I’ve reset her phone so many times but the girl never lets it stay.”

Chad shrugged unthinking and then smiled as he realized what he’d done. “She’s a creature of habit?” he suggested. “But yeah, she’s crashed on the couch for now and between the schedule and the jetlag I figured I could field a phone call for her. I’m sure she’ll be upset she missed you.”

“Nah, she’ll call me back. Always does.” Nico paused for a moment and Chad felt a hint of unease at the tension he doubted he was imagining. “So you haven’t done anything to my girl?”

The automatic way Chad bristled at the way Nico had called Sonny ‘his girl’ was too protective for a man not actually dating her. He didn’t care. “Nothing that wasn’t required.” The stilted words were almost a thrown gauntlet. Not quite, he hoped, but nearly a challenge to Nico’s claim on her friendship.

“Required?” Nico echoed, annoyance coloring his tone. “What exactly is ‘required’ for this movie? She never did tell us much about it. Discretion, I understand that,” Nico hastened to add. “But you two are the leads in a romance, aren’t you?”

“Not much,” Chad temporized. “Just what’s needed for filming.” He didn’t want to mention that they’d already had to film a love scene, that Sonny had done wicked things to his libido without even trying, that even now the desire to thoroughly debauch the beautiful woman on his couch was a knife’s edge of desire inside him.

Nico snorted. “You’re smooth, man, but not smooth enough. You’re not going to fool me.”

“I’m not trying to,” Chad said in a bald-faced lie.

“And I’m the queen of England,” Nico shot back. “Let’s get this all straight before I talk to the gang and we decide to fly out and kick your ass. I may have acted like a dumb kid most of the time back at Condor Studios, but did you ever wonder why the rivalry between our shows turned hostile after Sonny came?”

Chad’s mouth quirked up on one side. “Because Tawni hated sharing the spotlight?”

“Because none of us liked the way you looked at Sonny,” was Nico’s hard voiced response.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, _oh_. If you’d looked at her like a piece of meat we could have dealt with that.” The sudden hostility made Chad grip the edge of the kitchen counter. “You never looked at her like that, and we all saw it.”

“How did I look at her then?” He had to ask, he had to know. He thought he’d done such a great job of hiding the way he wanted her, needed her. The fights he picked just to have her attention, the things he did just to try and keep her from crying.

“Let’s just say if you’d ever said ‘as you wish’ to anything she asked, Grady and I would have tried to kill you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, uh, does this mean I need to start watching my back in dark alleys?”

Silence stretched between the continents that separated the two men for minutes before Nico finally answered. “No. No, I don’t think so. I was a little in love with her myself. I think all the guys were at some point. I can’t blame you for falling.”

“Should I say thank you?” Chad tried to keep it light but he was having a hard time doing it.

“No. You’re still in love with her. But I feel the need to remind you that we, all of us former Randoms, reserve the right to torture you to death if you ever hurt her.”

“Understood.”

“Good. Then tell her I called and I’ll be on stage tonight so she doesn’t need to worry about calling me back.” Nico paused for a moment and Chad sighed. “And tell her that Tawni wants details.”

Chad choked at the thought.

“Yeah, I’m with you on that. Let’s just not wonder what details Tawni wants and pretend the world is a safe and happy place.”

Chad winced but let it go, keeping the conversation simple for a few more minutes before promising to pass the message on and bowing to one final threat over Sonny’s happiness. When he finally closed the phone and laid it on the counter he wasn’t sure whether he needed to be mortified that the man on the other end had known so easily what Chad had thought he’d kept cleverly concealed. In the end it made no difference; if no one had told Sonny by now that Chad Dylan Cooper had been infatuated with her as a teenager he doubted anyone was going to. At least, not before Chad convinced her that falling in love with him was a good idea she’d come up with all on her own.

It was a pretty good indicator how exhausted she was that Sonny was still fast asleep when Chad finally made his way back to the living room and the couch. He’d felt the intense need to have a drink after the erstwhile conversation with Nico and had indulged in his own slightly guilty pleasure of a glass of bourbon on the rocks. It took the edge off of the conversation and the resulting sense of inadequacy, both in hiding the way he’d felt for her when he was sixteen and the faint blessing Nico had given him in his pursuit of her.

Regardless, he needed to do something about it. The shooting schedule was going to be very light for the next three days; maybe he could take her out on the town, have dinner, maybe kiss her again. The prospect was intriguing, though he wasn’t entirely sure how she would react if he tried to kiss her without cameras around.

They’d have another heavy week after that and then a week of nearly nothing as they prepped the hectic schedule that would precede the location change when they went to the countryside. At least Chad knew how to ride already; Sonny would be getting a crash course in the equestrian arts that would leave her feeling black and blue for days.

If he worked it right he might be able to talk her into letting him give her a muscle easing massage.

That thought was a little too much for Chad’s precarious hold on his libido, already strong despite the numbing qualities of the alcohol. It would be safer to get her to bed, to shut her up in her own room and retreat to his for a night of restless dreaming. Or another cold shower that would inevitably fail.

He knelt beside her head at the couch. “Sonny, wake up. Time to get to bed.”

She didn’t budge.

“Sonny,” he repeated a little louder trying to rouse her. He even shook her a little. All he got for his trouble was a faint mumbling and her snuggling deeper against the couch. He sighed. “Alright, sunshine, I’ll carry you just this once.”

The logistics of picking her up without waking her seemed insurmountable, but as he scooped her up into his arms the only movement she made was to turn her face in to his neck and tuck her head there. Somehow that meant more to him than the intriguing sexual encounter two nights prior, that she obviously trusted him enough, and didn’t mind him holding her. Sure, she was asleep, but a guy could dream, right?

Her door was already open, something he hadn’t thought about when he’d made the so chivalrous decision to carry her to bed, and her bed wasn’t made. The heavy duvet was shoved to the foot and the sheet slung to one side; it made it that much easier to lay her down and pull them both over her. She almost seemed to protest the loss of the warmth from she’d been held against him, but she still didn’t stir.

Chad sighed, undone by the sight of her sleeping there, her dark hair fanned out against the pillow. He could see faint circles under her eyes; he’d need to call Owen and see if they could push back shooting in the morning so she could get some decent sleep. Owen would probably be sympathetic to her jetlag; he was good about things like that.

He brushed a few strands of hair from her cheek as he leaned down, that hand slipping through her hair to brace himself against the bed as he pressed his lips to her cheek, and then chastely to her lips. It was definitely inappropriate, but it felt right. He left here there, the light turned off to cast the room back into shadow.

“Christ, Sonny,” Chad murmured from the doorway just before he closed it. “I am so in love with you."

 

The day’s shoot had gone fabulously well, even after the alarming start Sonny had suffered through when she’d seen the clock and thought she had missed her alarm. When she learned that Chad had turned it off (after carrying her to bed and tucking her in, no less) and pestered Owen for a later start time she was torn between relief and annoyance. She was twenty-two and if she couldn’t handle a case of jetlag and still meet her commitment to the project then she didn’t deserve to be cast.

But the extra sleep had helped, had put some serious spring into her step. It irked her that Chad had been right to call Owen and push the time back. It shouldn’t have, but it did. Then again, nothing between them was logical right now. Logic had fled their entire dynamic when she had been the one to kiss him first that night.

But whatever. So what if they had more sexual tension than David Henrie and Selena Gomez before they’d finally started dating? At least they were supposed to be portraying a couple falling in love; sexual tension was acceptable there. She didn’t even want to consider what it would have been like to be playing siblings with the way sparks seemed to fly between them.

At any rate, she had a night free once filming wrapped. She’d agreed to join the crew on an outing to the West End, sans camera this time and for nothing more than some fun. Chad had declined when Owen had suggested they both join, but the look Chad had given her when she’d looked at him questioningly hadn’t gained her an answer.

Instead, it just left her joining the native Londoners and some serious teasing. She’d already spent half the evening blushing over the delightedly perverse comments tossed her way. They were so inventive with their pithy phrases that she was torn between embarrassed laughter and just laughing. In the end she spent a great deal of time laughing and dancing and drinking, though she limited herself to mostly virgin drinks.

It seemed that the later it got the more open everyone was about the brewing chemistry between her and Chad. Explosive, Natalie had termed it, backed up by Jason and Mike from production. Jennifer had called it sweet and demanded to know where she could find a man who would look at her the way Chad apparently looked at Sonny. Owen had given her mostly bemused smiles.

It had taken her all of the first hour to realize that Owen had been interested. Not that Sonny hadn’t been when she first met him, but after a few days with Chad anything she might have been able to gain by seeing Owen in that light paled in comparison to the almost whatever she was suffering from.

It was annoying to be in this particular no man’s land hell, and sort of embarrassing because there was no way that Chad didn’t know. She was interested, it was completely obvious what with the way she’d been seriously thinking about divesting him of his actual boxers and begging him for sex. And she’d never done that. Ever.

The urge to bang her head into the table rose up and Sonny had to sigh and take a long drink of her ice water to try and prevent the inevitable self-inflicted concussion she was courting. Instead she turned her attention back to Jennifer, trying not to notice the sidelong glances Owen was giving her before he headed back to the bar to get another drink.

“It was so romantic, too, when you got cast,” Jennifer was saying to her. Sonny blinked, whatever train of thought the woman had completely passing her by. It wasn’t unusual for that to happen though; Jennifer was a nice enough girl, but she was so… Well, out there was the nicest thing she could term it. She doubted that Jennifer would even have been working on the movie if she wasn’t Owen’s cousin, but the relatively close relationship apparently gave her some severe insight on to what had been going on with the script and casting before Sonny had ever met Owen.

“I mean, Owen was going on about trying to get a big name female lead, and then Coop popped out with your name.” She nearly swooned at Sonny. “It’s all terribly romantic. Have you been dating him on the sly since your show was done for? Or did you have to meet up again and let the sparks fly?

For as moment Sonny’s mind was blank; she just couldn’t comprehend what Jennifer had just told her. If she’d been told that chocolate milk came from brown cows Sonny doubted she would have been any more surprised. “Chad asked Owen to cast me?”

The bubbling smile made Sonny sick. “Oh, yes. I wish I could have been there. I’m sure he was so demanding. He broods well, even though he’s a blond. I’m certain that it was quite dramatic.”

Dramatic. Right. And here Sonny had thought she was getting a break. No, she was… God, she didn’t even know what to call it. Favors from a man who once told her she was a no talent hack. “So Owen was going to get who? Instead of me?”

As if she were confiding Jennifer leaned forward. “ _I’d_ heard him talking about Charlize Theron, and Natalie was saying the Nicole Kidman had said yes before Chad insisted you had to play the part.”

So Chad had made Owen pick her over Charlize Theron. Nicole Kidman. _Oh my god,_ she thought desperately. This was so wrong. She was making a mistake—Sonny could all too easily see it becoming so embarrassing when everything was finished and Owen looked at the final cut and realized it was nothing but crap, that Sonny wasn’t up to the job of playing Erin.

She pushed her water away and bluntly ignored Jennifer’s questions about her sudden reticence. “I need to go,” she blurted out. “I have to go, I’m sorry, I have to leave.”

Sonny dropped a few pound notes by her water and found her purse, fleeing before she could find the nerve to ask Owen if it was all true. She didn’t really need an answer. It just hurt that she’d been so wrong, that she hadn’t gotten the part on the merit of her abilities. That Chad had felt the need to insist, as Jennifer put it, on Owen hiring her.

Sonny bit her lip against the tears, dredging up the anger that was beginning to smolder beneath it, the temper brewing searing hot there. Chad Cooper could go to hell for all she cared—she didn’t need his favors. And Sonny Monroe was perfectly willing to tell him so.


	9. Chapter 9

He either had the luck of the devil, or she did, Sonny wasn’t sure which. Whatever it was, luck (good or bad) or the imp of the perverse, she hadn’t managed to corner Chad in the last three days. Granted, it was Owen’s shooting schedule, but she sort of figured she could have gotten it done somehow. They _were_ living together, after all. But it just seemed kind of rude to bring it up and rip him to shreds over dinner that he cooked even after a grueling day of solo shooting.

In the last three days, though, they’d managed to clear up a lot of the background for Colin and Erin. Sonny had already shot her character’s first few days alone in London, and they’d done nearly all of Chad’s background. And they’d managed to get the scene where Erin witnesses Colin with another woman. Not that it mattered, there really wasn’t a ton of interaction for it, so another chance to ask Chad what the hell had slipped through.

It was one of the reasons she was lingering on the edges of tonight’s shoot. She needed to get this done before they started the next round of filming. They only had another week and a half left before they went to the countryside for the pivotal scenes that were the climax of the movie. And her extremely necessary crash course in the arts equestrian. Or making sure she wouldn’t fall off of her horse.

She figured Chad would be fine, since no one seemed to be worried about teaching him. He was, damn him, a man of many hidden talents, because he was currently playing Clair de Lune on an old bar piano in a hole in the wall pub. As Colin, yes, but the movement was far too practiced for Chad to have taken a crash course in piano.

He was good. Damn it. And it pissed her off that he was good. That she’d been living with him for weeks now and that he was still surprising her, whether it be his obvious attitude change, or his cooking skills, or the easy way his hands moved across the black and white piano keys.

It wasn’t so surprising that she was having to actively stop thinking about how those talented hands would feel on her body. Especially since she’d already been privy to the experience, and experience that had fueled far too many interesting dreams for her taste.

The scene cut with Owen’s voice, shaking Sonny back into reality from her annoyed thoughts.

“Right, Coop, can we play something a little more contemporary this time around? I know you love classical, and that Colin does, too, but Clair de Lune is too _Twilight_ for me,” Owen joked as he shoved a full pint at the blond man.

Chad chuckled and polished off the top third of the beer. “You’re the one that said Colin did classical piano. And just think, all of those primed and ready females who can wish that Colin sparkled as he plays.”

Owen frowned mockingly. “We can get some glitter in here. Cheaper than the special effects Summit forked out for, and far more effective.”

Chad jerked back from his friend with a laugh and Sonny had to bite her lip against the giggle that threatened to burst out of her. “If you come near me with glitter, Owen, I swear by whatever god you hold dear I will throw you in the Thames.”

Owen’s hands went up defensively. “I bought you a pint, mate. Drink it and don’t be hostile.”

Chad bared his teeth in a fake growl before taking another drink and sitting the glass on top of the piano. “Alright, let’s try this one on for size.”

His hands moved again and in the abnormally silent pub the keys rang with a deceptive volume. The first few notes were soft, on the higher end of the scale, but Sonny was immediately entranced. Chad’s fingers never faltered as he lowered the register. It felt sad, needy, almost the way she felt about him when she was honest with herself. It would be so easy to lose herself to it, to him, to the utter need that thrummed through her as the music sped towards a first bridge, a gentle crescendo of sound.

She closed her eyes and let go.

The temp sped, slowed; the theme never changed.

It ended as it began, soft and desperate love echoing from the body of piano. She inhaled softly wondering at the tears on her face and reaching up to scrub them away. Music had always moved her, but this was just magic. The applause that broke out made her smile, she could feel the need to just be the Sonny that she used to be—if only for a moment. She joined in, her hands echoing the claps that he deserved.

The Chad that she’d known would have eaten it up, bowing and making a general spectacle. The Chad she knew actually ducked his head, blood rising to heat his cheeks as he demurred the applause.

“It’s called _Leaves on the Seine_ ,” he told Owen. “We’ll have to get rights to use it, you know. More out of the budget.”

“We’ll find it, Coop. That was fucking fantastic.” Even Owen wasn’t immune to the mood Chad had evoked with the song. “Was anyone rolling? Did we get that on film?”

There were three cameras present, Sonny knew from an earlier count. And two of them had been filming, much to her relief. The impromptu concerto had been filmed. It, too, would make the final cut, as unplanned as so many things that were going in. it seemed to be the norm for this movie, but Sonny couldn’t begrudge it. Despite the random filming of certain things, they would work. She _knew_ it. And she knew she would work as Erin, and Chad of course as Colin.

It had to. _They_ had to. She couldn’t live with being typecast forever—she couldn’t make a living doing that and it just wasn’t who she was anymore. She was better than just being the pretty funny girl. And she was going to prove it. To the world, to herself, and to Chad.

She could get her own damned roles.

 

As far as Sonny was concerned, Chad wasn’t going to know what hit him. She’d fled the pub and his musical talents quickly after her anger had returned. (Just as strong as ever, though Sonny thought she might should be ashamed of holding the grudge. The old Sonny wouldn’t have, but that wasn’t her, as she’d forcibly reminded herself after nearly losing the anger to the music.)

She cooked, which helped her focus her thoughts. And, a plus, also kept her from the mindset of being an ungrateful guest after he’d cooked. Granted, it was simple food, nothing more than sautéed chicken with greens and vegetables, but she still cooked. She felt vaguely uncomfortable cooking in someone else’s kitchen, but she was beyond really caring.

Besides, it would serve him right to soften him up before telling him what an ass he was for bringing her onto the project under duress.

Sonny missed the key in the lock, but the closing of the door warned her before he could find her in the kitchen. “In here,” she called. “I cooked since you shot all evening. Come get it while it’s hot.” She winced at the words; she’d heard her mother say the very same thing more than once and it brought back memories that she didn’t really want right now.

She felt his presence before his hand slid against the small of her back, his face coming next to hers to peer at the pan on the stove. “Herbs and no spices? Looks great.” Then he pressed a kiss to her cheek, throwing her off balance for a moment as she lifted the pan and turned away from him blindly.

He’d kissed her. _Kissed_ her! What the hell was that?

She didn’t offer conversation as he pulled two plates from the cabinet and handed her one. She was more interested in avoiding the implications of what he’d done and focusing on the food to really get involved with conversation. In fact, she was more interested in the food than thinking about any of it until she slaughtered the sudden bedeviled spate of butterflies in her stomach after that. He’s kissed her.

There it was again. _Fuck_. She winced at her mental language and covered it by ducking her head to eat, not willing to give him any hint that he’d unsettled her. She’d already been unsettled, but that was beside the point. She needed to be angry. She couldn’t confront him if she wasn’t.

“I saw your shoot at the pub,” she finally said, grasping at anything that might give her the emotional strength she needed to be properly pissed off. “I didn’t know you could play the piano.”

He finished chewing before answering with a teasing waggle of eyebrows. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Sonny.”

“Yeah, I know,” she bit off. And just like that, it was back.

She held onto it fiercely, her conversation suddenly devolving into hard one syllable answers until Chad was looking at her oddly as he took her empty plate and rinsed it before slipping it into the dishwasher. She resolutely ignored him as she dumped the remaining food into a plastic dish and covered it, shoving it into the fridge without looking at him.

“Sonny?” he finally ventured when she closed the door. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

“Of course not,” she replied, still not looking at him. The words were like ice dripping from her mouth. She almost shivered from it. “Nothing you do is wrong. Everything is exactly how you want it, isn’t that right?”

He didn’t say anything and she turned to face him, her face set in harsh lines. She was angry, yes, but now the hurt was beginning to come back. She didn’t want that, she just wanted the anger. Her hands fisted and she dug her nails painfully into her palms. If she wasn’t bleeding when this was over Sonny would be amazed.

“I talked to Jennifer. Three days ago.”

“Okay?” The confusion in his blue eyes was almost pleasing. It would shock him more than she’d found out. Sonny felt unholy glee rising past the hurt to match the anger.

“Owen wanted someone else for the part.”

Chad’s brow furrowed. “We kicked a lot of names around, Sonny. A lot of them weren’t reasonable,” he offered against the wall of her anger.

“You put my name forward.”

“I did.”

And like that it broke inside of her.

“I can get parts on my own, Chad Cooper!” Her voice echoed in the kitchen, raised as it was. “I don’t need your help. I’m a damn fine actress. I don’t need fucking handouts from you.”

“What?”

She was irrationally pleased by his confusion, but the lack of understanding in his eyes. It would let her lay it out exactly as it was. “You wanted me on the project,” she ground out, her teeth clenched and dark eyes flashing with suppressed rage. “You demanded Owen hire me for this.”

He said nothing.

“Was it some fucked up plot? Did you need to feel better than me? ‘Poor Sonny’,” she intoned, her voice a strident hiss. “She couldn’t get a part for herself, right? So you could step up and be Chad Dylan Cooper, the golden boy, the Hollywood star, and help out the stupid little girl from Wisconsin.”

“It wasn’t like that,” he shot at her. “It wasn’t anything like that.”

“Then what _was_ it like, Chad?” she demanded. She defied him with her voice, with her eyes, and refused to back down when he took two stalking steps toward her.

“It doesn’t matter if you were having a crappy time getting a part,” he finally said.

Her jaw dropped. The jerk. The nerve. The unbelievable gall. She shoved past him until she was leaning against the empty island in the middle of the kitchen, palms flat against the cool marble surface. She had to breathe, carefully, slowly, before the red she was seeing blinded her and made her slap him the way she was sorely tempted to do.

“It doesn’t matter?” she whispered. “It doesn’t matter? It matters, Chad!” She nearly shrieked it as she turned back to face him. “I can get my own parts, damn it.”

“I never said you couldn’t!” His voice was just as loud as hers, but Sonny didn’t care.

“You did! You demanded I get the part. Tell me how that means I can get my own parts!”

“I suggested you.” Now his voice was silky smooth as he came near her again. “You were having a shit time in New York and you were obviously not going back to Hollywood to try and get cast. It was just a favor, and it was just a suggestion.”

Sonny’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need any favors from you, Chad Dylan Cooper,” she hissed at him with venom in her voice. “Not from you. Not from anyone. Don’t do me any, not a single one.”

“Fine,” he bit out.

“Fine!” she shot back, irritated at the sudden reemergence of their old pattern.

Chad’s eyes flashed at her, electric blue with annoyance. “Good,” he retorted. The way they seemed to lose five years of maturity was enough to make him smile at her, Sonny could see it in the way he stopped his lips from quirking up at the edges.

It made her even more irrational so that she continued on with it, her, “Good!” as biting as it had never been before.

“ _Fine!”_

He was closer now, almost flush with her, almost threatening, except Chad had never really frightened her. Infuriated her, yes, made her lust after him insanely, no doubt. But never fear. It was the only reason why she felt safe in ending it the way they had always ended it.

“Fi—,” was she got out, ready to push him away again and vanish to her room, but his hands were heavy and hot on her shoulders and his mouth crashed against hers.

Her breath fled along with any sanity she might have had. He smelled like the pub he’d been playing in, beer and smoke and stale cigarettes, he tasted like the herbed chicken and beneath that the Guinness she’d watched him drink. But under that was Chad, the same man whom she had pretended to make love to already, the man who had fueled the erotic dreams she’d been victim to for days on end since that night.

So of course it was completely normal that she fisted her hands in his shirt and pulled him closer.

It wasn’t anything like the kisses they’d shared in front of the cast and crew, not the impromptu ones in Harrods or Trafalgar Square or even the heated scene where Erin and Colin finally fell into bed. It was hot and demanding, no surrender, just a fight to get as much as they could before one or the other came to their senses. But Sonny didn’t really plan to, not yet. Maybe not ever.

She’d wanted this almost since she’d seen him again, she realized with a start.

The shock of the realization had her jerking back from him, her hip banging painfully into the countertop and making her hiss with the shock of it. She was breathing heavily, just as heavily as he was. Her hands were still fisted in his shirt; she couldn’t bring herself to let go.

“Sonny, I…” He couldn’t finish. She didn’t know why, desperately wanted to know what he wanted to say. Sonny’s fingers flexed convulsively against the thin cotton.

She exhaled slowly, her eyes never leaving Chad’s. it was almost like she was giving him permission to do what she wanted to do, what she was suddenly afraid to do. To kiss him again.

It was Chad that finally moved, ending the stalemate as he brought his hands up to wrap around her wrists. Strong hands, sure and steady as he pulled hers away from his shirt. She thought for a moment that Chad was going to walk away, leave her there confused and desperate for his touch. He didn’t. Instead he pulled her closer, loosing one wrist to bring his hand up to her face, to pull her closer and kiss her again.

This time was just as different as the previous kiss had been. Chaste, almost innocent, the keen edge of desire rising between them until she was ready to whimper as his finally buried his hands in her hair. her body was pressed against him and she could feel the hard length of him pressing against her, full proof that he wanted her, wanted this, as much as she did.

“Sonny,” he breathed against her lips. “Tell me this is okay. Tell me this isn’t going to fuck everything up.”

She smiled a little. “Chad, if you don’t kiss me again, that’s going to fuck everything up.”

His response was everything that she didn’t know she hoped for, heated and passionate. She didn’t protest when he wrapped his arms around her. For her part Sonny was content to let him, her arms winding up around his neck so that she could run her fingers through his hair, pull him closer, let herself melt into him almost literally. She felt completely boneless as she finally surrendered to it, not caring what happened or didn’t happen.

Pure. Driving. Need.

It was inevitable, what was happening. Sonny didn’t protest when Chad lifted her, his arms secure around her, the kiss breaking for barely a moment before his mouth found hers again, insistently plying her lips until Sonny couldn’t do anything but give in. They found his bed more quickly than she’d expected—Sonny didn’t care as he laid her out on it before following her down, fingers working at the buttons along the front of her shirt until it was gone. His followed shortly, Sonny making quick work of it just as he had hers.

The almost familiar weight of his body felt right, felt exactly as she wanted, as she needed. His skin burned hers where it touched, the flush of desire breaking between them until there was nothing left but just them. In the end, all Sonny could do was surrender to it.


	10. Chapter 10

He was in the middle of the most fantastically brilliant dream when the cow started mooing. The dream shattered, Sonny’s skimpily clad figure melting away as the large animal strolled in, a fork sticking out of its rump. The Heinz 57 in his hand sent Chad jerking upright in bed frantically searching for an escape route. He liked his steaks rare, but mooing and on the hoof was a little much for him.

It took another two moos for Chad to realize that it wasn’t a cow and that his dinner wasn’t being served alive. In fact, it was morning, the sun was shining through a crack in his imperfectly closed curtains, and Sonny’s phone was still ringing.

_Sonny._

For a moment he thought that she’d left, or maybe that he’d just dreamed it all, from the fight to the kiss to the—yeah, to the incredible night he’d spent worshipping her. But he hadn’t, she was still sleeping there, completely oblivious to the still mooing phone. It cut off abruptly and Chad’s cell started ringing from somewhere on the floor. He groaned softly as she started trying to bury her face in the pillow.

Without any regard to his state of dress Chad slid from the bed to his knees, digging through discarded clothes until he found the source of the annoying ringing. Grabbing for his jeans, he searched for the pocket with the ringing phone. It was just starting a third ring when he found it and cut it off with a vicious stab to the talk button.

“Yeah?” he demanded tersely, trying to be quiet at the same time. Waking Sonny up wasn’t high on his list of priorities, even as he realized that they were probably going to be late for the morning’s shoot.

The sound of traffic swelled in his ear before Owen tossed him a far too awake hello. “I was trying to get a hold of Allison, she never answered.”

Chad’s eyes darted back the bed where she was once again peacefully asleep. Her dark hair was curling around her face and down her back and the sheet itself was pushed down to her waist. She was on her stomach leaving the slim silver limned scars from her car accident visible. Owen was lucky that was all that was visible, otherwise Chad would have already hung up in favor of renewing his worshipful adoration of her body. As it was, Chad still had to turn away as he settled himself on the edge of the bed—the temptation to ignore Owen and wake her up by running his mouth along her spine was too strong to deny while looking at her.

“It’s in the kitchen, you calling her woke me up,” he explained to his friend trying not to sound too short. Besides, it was true enough. And there was no need to mention that the phone was there because that’s where they’d left it on the way to his bed for a night of wild debauchery. “We’re going to be late, I know, I know.”

“Actually, you’re not. Today’s Sunday, we’re all having a breather, recall?” Owen was chuckling, but Chad ignored it. He was tired, it was expected that he’d get his days mixed up. Especially after last night.

“Then why are you calling me at,” Chad glanced around for a clock, knowing that his watch was somewhere on the other side of the bed. He’d flung it there when it had tangled in Sonny’s hair. “Eight-fifteen in the morning. Why? I could still be asleep.”

“Tomorrow’s a by day as well, you lazy bastard,” Owen taunted Chad. But the humor quickly settled as he explained that the venue for shooting had cancelled at the last minute. “I’m trying to reschedule it, but it mucks up the schedule. Figure we could all use a few days’ worth of lie-ins to survive this.”

“Yeah,” Chad murmured. “We could always try somewhere else instead of rescheduling. It’s not like it’s the last theater in London, and we certainly aren’t filming a show. We just need a crowded foyer.”

“Do you think I’ve not thought of that?” Owen asked. “Right, sorry, I know you’re just trying to help. It’s your baby, too.”

Chad grunted. “Well, it’ll keep till later. Why don’t you go back to sleep so we can all be sane later?”

He thought he heard Owen calling him rude names as he flipped the phone closed, but Chad ignored it in favor of glancing back at the sleeping woman next to him. He’d been good long enough—it was time to pay some attention to her. The phone and Owen were utterly forgotten as Chad’s fingers crept along the dark blue sheet pulling it back slowly until it slipped down past her waist so that her entire back was clear to his eyes. The line of her waist as it descended from her shoulders, the dip and curve before the rising slope of her bum were entrancing as his eyes slid higher up.

She was self-conscious about her scars. Chad knew she was, if only because she was actually a very private person. But on the canvas of her back they weren’t ugly or disfiguring. Smooth along the surface of her skin and a pink-white so pale that it shone silver. There were a lot of them, more than a dozen scattered in an imperfect pattern. He traced the thin line of the one closest to his hand, just above her waist on the left. It was less than an inch long and he couldn’t feel anything other than a thin smooth line.

He traced another, and then another, memorizing them and her body and the way she felt beneath his hands. She shifted a little; he didn’t stop. The cell phone and Owen were long since forgotten—Chad never noticed when he dropped the phone to bring his other hand up to touch her. He pressed a kiss to the base of her spine, tongue flicking out to taste her skin. He lapped at it, the salty sweet of her skin smooth under his mouth, his fingers beginning to tug at her flesh demandingly as he moved further up.

This time when she moved Chad knew that she wasn’t just shifting in her sleep. The delightful sound from the back of her throat, the sudden tension as he swept her hair to the side to pool in a dark mass on the blue of the sheets, the sudden sharp breath she took in as he pressed another warm, wet kiss to the sharp plane of her shoulder blade—

“Chad,” she murmured throatily, nearly whimpering when his fingers ghosted along the curve of her breast where her arm was flung out across the bed.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he replied softly, lips tickling her ear before leaning further to capture her mouth in a searing kiss. She rolled beneath him, just enough to give him full access to her mouth and body, her own hands seeking his and pulling him closer.

Needy noises sprang from her lips as she kissed him. Chad was conceited enough to be pleased that she wanted him still, that the night before wasn’t (so far) a one-night stand, a mistake in her eyes. He needed it not to be a mistake, he needed her. His breathing sped up as did his pulse, the slide of her body beneath his driving him halfway to madness.

She smiled at him when he pulled away, panting as his eyes burned into hers. “Good morning,” she whispered as she pulled him back down to kiss him again. It was chaste this time; Chad enjoyed it just as much as the rest. “We’re late, aren’t we?” The question was unhurried, so lazily resigned to tardiness that Chad almost laughed aloud.

“Mm, no,” he told her as he settled next to her, working his way under the sheet. Her body melded to his, hot and lithe, one leg coming up to settle him against her in ways that made him ache to just lay her back and take her again and again and again. He resolutely ignored that desire in favor of telling her they had all day in bed to look forward to. And food. Definitely food.

“Owen called, we have today and tomorrow free. Business as usual again on Tuesday.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she breathed against his throat as she Tucker her face there, lips pressing themselves to his pulse.

He agreed. “I was thinking we should eat. I have some croissants, some eggs, and I might even have some bacon.”

“Breakfast in bed? I accept,” she teased him. He kissed her again.

Sonny moved again, nearly wiggling her way underneath him. The invitation in her eyes had Chad rethinking his priorities as slim fingers traced lines down his sides. “Of course,” he said as his mouth found her throat to suck the tender skin there, “we could always eat later.”

“What a wonderful idea, Chad,” Sonny told him before she pulled him back to her.

 

Breakfast had become lunch after another spate of lovemaking. It was gentler than it had been last night, something which Chad approved of. Not that he was a prude; sex for the sake of sex was perfectly acceptable. But knowing that Sonny had been willing to make it more than just a physical need for sexual release made it all the better for him. She’d led the dance between them that first time, but he’d choreographed the steps as he led her from bed to shower.

It had been a study in sensuality to share the shower with her. So much so that Chad had every intention of convincing her to join him in the overly large tub with him later. He had candles, music and a bottle of wine that just screamed, “Romance! Seduction!” And he wasn’t afraid to use either of them, either. In fact, he was looking forward to it rather eagerly.

“These are really good,” Sonny told him as she settled onto the edge of his bed, her plate balanced carefully on her thighs and her hands juggling the sandwich he’d made her as well as a glass of very American iced tea.

What she had teasingly suggested as breakfast in bed had become a shared lunch in bed, another thing of which he approved. Her willingness to lounge about with him meant that Sonny was happily wearing an old dress shirt of his and the lacy panties he’d nearly ripped off of her the night before—and nothing else. He was only wearing a pair of pajama pants so Chad figured they were even in both what they were clothed in as well as what they were thinking.

He had every intention of making love to her again after they’d refueled and was certain she would agree.

And if she didn’t Chad planned on persuading her. Vigorously.

“Chunked chicken breast, apple, grapes, and celery with a bit of mayonnaise. Makes a nice yet classy chicken salad that sits well on a croissant.”

She looked at him oddly, one brow arching as she obviously fought back a laugh. “Did you come up with that all on your own?”

“Nah. Recipes dot com.” Chad chuckled. “You learn all sorts of easy things when you live the bachelor lifestyle. And I like eating good food.”

“Makes more sense knowing that.” Sonny took another bite, her dark eyes watching him. Chad tried not to be self-conscious, but he was pretty sure he was failing in spectacular fashion. “You’ve got money. Why not a personal chef?”

“Do I strike you as the type to want my own personal set of paid slaves?” His voice was dry as he told her that, trying not to shudder at the idea of strangers around all the time. “I don’t actually like the maid service much. But it’s nice having a good cleaning done every few weeks,” he admitted grudgingly. “But it’s not like I let it go to hell in between visits.”

Sonny laughed as she picked a piece of grape from her sandwich and popped it into her mouth chewing thoughtfully. “Five years ago, you could have starred in _Entourage_ and had a small army of your own that was more than all of theirs combined.”

He choked on his water, sandwich dropping to his plate as he tried to breath around the liquid running down his windpipe. “Jesus, Sonny, I wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“Alright, you weren’t,” she smirked at him. “But you had a more intricate beauty routine than I did. And I was a sixteen-year-old _girl_.”

He arched a pale eyebrow her way. “Well, not all of us were as naturally beautiful as you are.”

She blushed prettily, eyes dropping as she ducked her head shyly. “Thank you,” she told him softly before taking another bite.

“Like I said,” and he brandished the last bite of his own at her, apple dropping to the plate as he did, “any man who didn’t tell you how beautiful you are at least a dozen times a day should be shot. Twice.”

Her skin turned even more red but she didn’t agree or disagree, simply finished her food in contemplative silence. Chad finished well before her, the male appétit evident in the way he wolfed it down, and he settled himself into watching her eat as she had before he’d made her so flushed and red. When she finished she reached for his plate and disappeared to the kitchen with it, returning after a moment to sink down on the edge of the bed. Chad smiled faintly at her sudden lack of inhibition.

“Come here,” he told her as he pulled the sheet up and held his arm out, beckoning for her to take up residence there. She did, crawling willingly underneath with him and settling her face into the crook of his neck. He could feel the brush of her eyelashes and she closed her eyes, the steady warm breathes from her mouth as she relaxed with him.

“I never would have pictured this all those years ago,” she said softly after a bit, resettling her head on his shoulder, one arm carelessly slung across his waist.

Chad chuckled at that. “I didn’t actually think it would ever happen… But I pictured it.” The admission was soft, almost wrung from him, but he didn’t regret saying it.

He felt her shift closer and tucked her more securely in with his arm. “Is that why you were always an ass to me?”

He mmm’d for a moment. “Didn’t your mom ever tell you that when a boy likes a girl he pulls her braids?”

She giggled loudly. “Actually, she did. I thought she’d lost her mind.”

“Well there you have it.”

They settled into a silence that sent him half dozing despite his faint urge to seduce her again, her fingers making tiny circles on his skin and keeping him from slipping in to true sleep. Owen really had called too early considering how late it had been when they finally went to sleep. All in all considering the way he’d been able to wake Sonny, he might revise his irritation to gratitude.

“You didn’t have this scar when we were kids, did you, Chad?” she asked him, rousing him into opening his eyes.

“Hmm? No, not that one. I rode a bicycle into a railing about a year after you left.” He gave a pained grimace. “Not my most brilliant moment.”

She smoothed fingers across it as if to soothe it. Then her fingers moved to push the sheet down and slide under the pajama pants. Her nails scraped across a patch of patterned dots that he couldn’t believe she remembered. Chad made a mental note to find out later exactly how she’d managed to focus enough to notice them—he’d have to work harder to make her a boneless heap.

“How’d you get these?” she asked as she practically caressed his thigh.

His breath hitched as blood rushed to his groin, her touch far too sensual at the moment. “Accident with a BB gun when I was twelve.”

To his relief and dismay her hand skimmed up his hip. “How’d you get this one?” Sonny asked quietly, tracing a three-inch-long scar just above his ribs.

“Game of soccer a couple of years ago. Owen and his cleats,” Chad told her.

“And this?” was the soft demand as her fingers moved again, farther up to a jagged pink stripe on his shoulder.

“Wall climbing. Then wall falling.” He smiled ruefully. “Also not my most brilliant moment.”

She smiled, tilting her head up. Her dark eyes twinkled at him with suppressed laughter. “You’re not very graceful, are you, Chad Cooper?”

“Hey!” he protested. “These are sports related injuries!”

She gave him a smile and wiggled against him, one leg coming across his, the top of her thigh brushing against him and completely depleting every other significant portion of his body of blood and his brain of rational thought. “Sports related?” she asked coyly.

Chad groaned as she scraped nails down from his shoulder, one catching on his nipple before she continued down, and this time when her hand disappeared beneath the sheet he could feel slender fingers running down the length of him. He was sure his breathing stopped altogether then as his arm around her tightened, fingers digging into her side. Sonny squirmed against his side and he forced his hand to relax as he breathed out shakily.

“Sonny,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“Chad,” she retorted in a soft sing-song tone.

“Oh god,” he murmured as she lowered her mouth to his chest, laving his skin only to leave it chilled by the air when she moved her mouth elsewhere. “Sonny, you should really stop that now.”

She murmured against his chest, “Now why would I _ever_ want to do that, Chad?”

He thought that he should be able to respond with something suave or at the very least witty. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to do that. He went for blunt truth. “Because if you don’t, sunshine, I’m going to have to have my wicked way with you again.”

The sound that came from her throat was nothing short of erotic and snapped the last of his self-control as she gently used her teeth on him, lips curving into a smile as his fingers dug into her hair and pulled her face up to his so that he could plunder her mouth in a searing kiss. She moaned and he drank the sound in.

In a smooth shift she was suddenly on top of him smiling devilishly down at him. “You’re not having your wicked way with me, Chad Cooper,” she instructed him, pressing a finger to his mouth when he began to protest. “I,” she said as she slithered down his body, “am having _my_ wicked way with _you_.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Discretion?”

Sonny fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. Maybe they should have had this conversation two days ago _before_ they’d spent forty-eight hours in various states of undress and mostly making love. It would have been much better coming then than now when they were in the back of a cab on their way to set.

“Explain?” His voice wasn’t demanding or even annoyed, for which Sonny was eternally grateful.

She spread her hands in entreaty. “I mean just… not… Fuck, I can’t say this right.” He was silent for a long minute as she sat there trying to disappear into the seat.

“You don’t want to tell anyone.” It was a statement, not a question; Sonny hating the accusation she swore she could hear in his voice.

“I just want you to myself. I don’t want to share you,” she said helplessly.

She expected recrimination. What she got was a fairly wide smile.

“I actually feel the same way, Sonny,” he told her and Sonny breathed a sigh of relief. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “I’ll take you on any terms I can get, sunshine, and be grateful for it.”

It saved her from having to tell him the rest of her reasoning—that she didn’t want their relationship impinging on the film. God, what a nightmare that would be. It was no secret back in the States that they’d had something of an unfriendly relationship. It had been popular in Sharona’s gossip column until she’d disappeared, and how Marshall had stopped any reports on her leaving _So Random_ Sonny might pay good money to learn. Though Marshall would most likely tell her at the drop of a phone call. She made the mental note to call him later just to say hi, and to finally return Tawni’s last voicemail that had come while she was busy having her own wicked way with Chad.

But, and it was a huge one, that kind of publicity while generating interest, could easily overshadow the movie. And that couldn’t happen. Owen was talking about premiers, it was going to be a worldwide theatrical release. The last thing they needed was drama making it take second seat to them. And god, Sharona was more than capable of doing that.

She knew if she told Chad he’d understand that reasoning, but Sonny was loathe to do that because she honestly didn’t want to bring the relationship out into the open. She really did want him all to herself. Without the stares and giggles and innuendoes and double entendres that would be inherent, especially when so many costars got into relationships that didn’t ever seem to last.

And Sonny didn’t want that.

If she were completely and perfectly honest with herself… She was falling for him.

She knew, could easily admit now that she’d been half in love with him when they were younger. If it hadn’t been for the fact that she spent all of those years arguing and fighting with him she might have realized it sooner. If she’d listened to her mother, sooner than that. But denial is a wonderfully terrible thing and Sonny was pretty sure if she hadn’t somehow tumbled into his bed two days prior she might never have really realized it.

She did now. It was the most painful, most wonderful thing. When he looked at her she could see so easily how she was obviously the only thing he saw. She had been, Sonny knew now, since she’d arrived, even if the initial meeting had been completely fucked by the rain and his missing picking her up at Heathrow.

She found she didn’t mind so much anymore. In fact, it was really rather endearing thinking back on his completely shocked and appalled realization that she’d been forgotten, however unintentionally. It could even be an inside joke one day. Not now, though; it was too soon into—whatever this was between them. She wanted to say relationship, but she wasn’t sure of it yet.

She remained distracted as they were delivered to the shoot. It was only going to last a couple of hours and then there was going to be a potluck at someone’s house. Chad was carrying their endeavors for her since she’d gone with one of her mother’s hearty stew recipes. It was fitting for the weather since it was getting colder out every day. Thank god she could warm up in between takes otherwise she might have frozen the first hour.

It was good though, there weren’t that many things left. The next week would be devoted to the relationship scenes. She was a little nervous about those, but only because she didn’t want anyone to see the new easy familiarity between her and Chad. She was being far too protective over it, she knew, but Sonny couldn’t help it.

“You’ve been thinking hard today, Allison. Have any mind left?” Owen asked her as he sidled in with a cup of coffee extended. She took it gratefully and shrugged.

“Just thinking about things. Life. Important things I could probably wait on,” she told him as vaguely as she could.

He made a low noise in his throat as he sipped his coffee. “Ah, Coop then, I expect. It’s good to see the two of you getting on so well.”

She flushed and took a hurried gulp of the dark brew, grimacing as it burned its way down.

“You don’t do a good job of hiding it, either of you,” he teased gently. She flushed again but said nothing. “Of course, if you didn’t disappear with him twice today I doubt anyone else would notice it. He’s a good actor.”

He paused. “You’re just as good, you know.”

“Thanks,” she said softly, her fingers wrapping around the mug.

“He told me about the row you two had.”

“Row?” she inquired, unfamiliar with that particular slang. At least in its British vernacular. The only rowing Sonny was familiar with had to do with boats and paddles.

He smiled down at her, green eyes twinkling. “Fight. Argument. Like that, you see?”

“Oh. When? Today?”

Owen gave her a graceless shrug. “Last night on the phone, actually. He said, if I recall it aright, that he wanted to warn me in case someone else gave you the wrong impression.”

“Oh god,” she muttered, this time ducking her head against the embarrassment.

He waved a hand carelessly as he took another sip of the warming coffee. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, I know something of the bad blood you and he had in years past. I did, however, want to reassure you about your being hired on.”

“If I kill him for talking to you about this are you going to be annoyed?” Sonny asked him in all earnestness. “I swear I never meant for you to hear about this. It’s just hard to… let it all go. Well, it was.”

“Ah, not anymore. That’s good.” Owen sighed a little. “I took his suggestion is all, Allison. I had business in New York already or I might not have interviewed you at all. But you won this part on your own merit. He just recommended I check your ability out.”

Sonny shifted uncomfortably. She hated the feeling that Owen felt the need to reassure her. She hated more how much the reassurance felt in receiving it. Chad might have had no business taking it to Owen, but she could forgive him for it. After giving him a good talk about keeping their private affairs exactly that: private.

“So you and Chad, huh?”

The old habit of chewing her lip reared its head and Sonny made the mental note to have her makeup checked before she went back on set. “I swear it won’t interfere with the performance, Owen.”

“Never said it would,” was his airy reply. His voice turned a little more serious after that. “I can’t blame him. I fancied you when we first met. But Coop had a much prior claim.”

His easy admission made her glance up, startled.

“Oh, it’s nothing really,” Owen said. “You’re a beautiful woman, talented and funny. Any man would be lucky to have you. I could almost envy him, were it not for the fact that there’s no chemistry between us.”

“Should I say I’m sorry?” she asked hesitantly.

“Not at all, Allison. Not at all. I just wanted to give you my blessing, as it were. Though I know you want, how did you put it? Discretion. That’s the word.”

“He told you that? Of course he did,” she replied sourly at the amused look on his face.

“We’re friends first, business partners second, and director and actor last. I prefer it that way.” Hearing it explained made perfect sense to Sonny, even if she was still a little put out that her one request had made it to Owen’s ears within hours. “Don’t be too cross with him alright? He just wanted to make sure I wasn’t surprised during filming.”

She sighed. “Alright, alright, he’s off the hook. For now.”

The smile Owen gave her as he drifted off to order the extras around didn’t make her feel any more charitable towards Chad, but Sonny was pretty sure she could live with that. After all, Owen was Chad’s best friend. She knew she was reading it right, and she was pleased to have his approval for the relationship. Funny how she’d stumbled across that word not very long ago. Now it was just the thing to call it.

 

The week of shooting passed quickly in Chad’s opinion, which was all to the good. There had been no major issues on set, nothing to make anything an issue, and they were fast approaching the final day of shooting before they went to Wales for the last week of the movie. And, Chad was most pleased with the last, he’d managed to all but convince Sonny to move into his own room. Most of her clothes were there, her toiletries were now scattered on the counter in his bathroom, and her smelly soaps and shampoos cluttered the shower.

Not the tub, he already had enough clutter there of his own, the imminent hint that he wanted to join her there. But so far she hadn’t agreed. That would change tonight once the day’s filming was wrapped. He’d get her home, feed her, and soothe her into the warm scented water to join her. He may have had ample opportunity to join her in the shower but somehow it wasn’t the same.

Not that he didn’t like the feline way her eyes slitted closed when he convinced her to let him wash her hair. Now _that_ had been an experience in eroticism. It had led to them being very late for shooting, but Owen had covered willingly. It was good of him, too good knowing now that Owen had been interested in Sonny. But Chad refused to feel guilt over that. Sonny was his, finally, and nothing was going to take her away from him if he could help it.

Now all he had to do was convince her of the same.

He shrugged into the leather coat for the scene, returning his focus to his job and vocation. “So you want me to fling it down?” Chad asked Owen to double check his instructions. There had been minor changes to the way scenes were set as they shot, and this was one of them. They’d already filmed it three times in the original version, but Owen wanted more drama.

Chad could give it to him. After all those years on _Mackenzie Falls_ he should be well able to. That show was based on drama. Bad drama, but the teenaged audience fed on that like a drunk on alcohol, so Chad wouldn’t point fingers. Especially since he’d netter a couple of his own Emmy’s for it.

“We want passion, anger, fire,” Owen was explaining as he headed back to the set. “It needs to bring the audience to their knees. I want no dry eyes in the house.”

Chad grimaced as he chuckled. “I could just slit my wrists on camera. That should be good for a tear or two.”

Owen rolled up his copy of the script and batter Chad upside the head with it.

“Coop, quit being an arse.”

Chad laughed outright as he smoothed his hair back down. “Yes, master.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

The scene was set and Owen called it the moment Chad hit camera range. The strangest thing about it all was talking into a dead cell phone, trying to gauge the timing of the nonexistent conversation. He’d always hated that part, but most productions outside of major studios didn’t care to carry the cost of active conversation rolled over into a price on cellular minutes. Chad could deal though, it wasn’t as if it were his first time.

“Look, he told me exactly how he felt about it and I really don’t feel the need to give up my life here to go back to his house and his rules,” he said into the phone with heat. He recited the reply mentally as he strode across Colin’s apartment and damn near threw his keys down on the table.

“No,” he said just as forcibly. “No! Mom, you have to understand. I have a _life_ here. And it may not be living off of a trust fund, but it’s not like I’m in dire straits.”

He snorted and started emptying his pockets. A wallet, a few pound notes, some loose change. This time the mental recital went slower because he knew that Colin’s mother was to be cajoling her son into returning home. On a sudden urge he pulled the phone away from his ear and closed his eyes, pressing his fingers to either side of the bridge of his nose. It was a universal sign for impending headaches, which Chad thought might lend itself to the tone of the scene.

He could practically feel the vibes of approval from Owen as he pulled the phone back to his ear. “Mom, I’m not coming home. _You_ called _me_ , remember? There’s no reason for me to leave and I sure as hell doubt Dad’s going to try and give me one.”

He paused as he turned back towards the couch and coffee table. “No. I’m sorry. I love you, Mom, but I can’t.” Another pause, drawn out a little longer. “I know. Alright, I’ll call you. I promise. _I promise_.” The urge to throw in an adlib about being a terrible son tickled his tongue, but Chad held it back. It had no place in the scene, not unless he wanted to make it too melodramatic.

“Yeah, I love you. Bye, Mom.”

On cue he flipped the cell phone closed and dropped it to the coffee table as if it were burning his hand. Then came the added intensity Owen want, shrugging the coat off roughly to throw it with violence at the empty couch. He followed it down on an angry sigh.

“Damn it. Just… damn it,” he muttered dropping his head forward into his hands. Chad held the pose for a moment until Owen cried cut.

“Brilliant. Fucking brilliant. I told you it would work a charm,” Owen chortled at him. “That’s going to print. I think we’re wrapped for today, people.”

Packing up went quickly and before the sun had set Chad had Sonny tucked under his arm and walking back to his apartment. It had taking some cajoling, but he’d convinced her to brave the elements for it. And besides, it gave him a chance to show her London as he saw it. Home.

“I liked watching you today,” she told him as they crossed a street, dodging pedestrians going the other way. “It was educational, too.”

He chuckled. “I could say the same watching you. You’ve got a great knack for drawing on your own life to give more emotional value.”

She blushed prettily and snuggled in closer to him. He let her, they were both cold. “We’ll be home soon enough, Sonny. I’ll get you warm then.”

She pulled away laughing, aiming a smack to his arm. He rubbed it aggrieved. “My Sonny is so cruel to me,” he teased her before pulling her close again. He chuckled again. “Come on, sunshine, let’s get moving.”

“Why do you call me that?” she asked after another block of him pointing out random places that he’d visited. “Everyone else calls me Allison but you still insist on calling me Sonny.”

“Do Nico and Grady and Tawni and Zora call you Sonny?” Chad asked her pragmatically.

“Sometimes,” she said with a flounce of her hair, a difficult thing considering most of it was buried under his arm.

“And why do they do that?”

“Because they’re my friends and that’s how they’ve always known me,” she muttered. “I tried making them call me Allison all the time. They all laughed at me and called me Sonny with every sentence for weeks.”

Chad hid the sudden hurt quickly. He knew she hadn’t meant that he wasn’t her friend, too. He knew logically that it was simply because she’d never really lost touch with her old cast mates. But it still stung, even if she hadn’t intended it that way.

“I’m your friend, too, even if we didn’t speak for five years,” he told her as he turned them down another street.

She sighed and he felt one of her hands come up to slip her slim fingers through his where his own hand dangled from her shoulder. “I know we’re friends. It’s more that I was trying to shed the ‘Sonny Monroe’ image. It’s a stupid nickname. Allison sounds more mature. But you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Oh, look. That’s one of my favorite pubs. They do one-pound pints every Wednesday night,” he pointed out with his free hand.

“Chad,” she said, annoyed. He chuckled.

“Alright, alright,” he gave in with a faint smile. “Come on, out of traffic. I’ll tell you.”

When they were safely out of pedestrian right of way he did, swinging her around so she could look up at him with her dark brown eyes. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and another to her lips.

“When you smile you light up the entire room. It’s like sunshine, a single smile from you can make everyone else who sees it smile,” told her softly, ignoring everything else around them. “Me included. It’s one of my favorite things about you.”

Her eyes darkened for a moment and then her hands were cold on his cheeks pulling him down for a kiss. It was all he could do not to tell her how much he loved her right then. There was time enough for that.


	12. Chapter 12

He decided not to give her a chance to refuse the tub by letting her cook while he got it ready. Sonny thought he was making some phone calls. In fact, she was on the phone with Tawni herself since Nico was onstage when she tried him. Chad had used it as an excuse to escape, petrified of what the vaunted details Tawni was demanding might be. Not that he thought Sonny would share anything about their new relationship with her being hell bent on privacy.

Chad was okay with that, though for a few minutes he’d been scared to death when she asked him for discretion. It was one thing to not want the world to know they were seeing each other, it was another to be ashamed of the fact. He was embarrassingly grateful that she wasn’t ashamed, though he knew logically that she might have been, given their past.

But she wasn’t, and he could live with privacy. It was a hard thing to come by in Hollywood, easier here in London since he wasn’t the average London teenagers wet dream. At least Chad hoped he wasn’t. It was bad enough trying to do everyday shopping in Los Angeles. Having a place to get away from that kind of furor was something he valued, which was why London was more home than his house in West Hollywood was.

The cleaning crew had come while they were out so picking up wasn’t going to be a time waster in his little plot to get Sonny into a bubble bath. Chad could concentrate on making sure that everything else was set up. He dragged his portable speakers into the bathroom and hooked his MP3 player into them. He already had a playlist of soft music set; all he’d have to do was hit play. The candles were spread and the smelly bubbles he thought she liked were at hand. He’d have to beat her in by a minute to get the water running.

No excuses, they had a late call in the morning and Chad was going to take every advantage of it.

She was just telling Tawni a laughing goodbye when he reemerged, her voice soft and lilting as she hung up. “Tawni says hi,” Sonny told him as she pocketed her cell and motioned him over. “I made chicken again, is that alright?”

“It smells great,” he told her honestly.

Keeping her occupied with small talk through dinner was easy. They reviewed the days shoot and planned for tomorrow. It would be the last day in London. After that a week in Wales and then he’d been throwing a wrap party before he and Owen began post production. Not that Chad thought for a second that Owen hadn’t already started that on his own. All of the scenes that were going to print were probably already beginning to pollute the master reel, and outtakes were probably littering Owen’s office.

“Do you think we’ll get some more time off before we head south?” she asked as they finished.

Chad shrugged at that as he helped her clear the table. “The plan is to get a few days of peace before we head to the manor. We’re not trying to set a record for the fastest filming in history and I know Owen is intent on keeping us all fresh.”

“It’s hard to imagine you could get bored during filming,” she told him.

“You’d be surprised,” was his only response. Then, he set his plan in motion. “Could you finish up here, Sonny? I have to make one more call.”

She agreed without argument and Chad beat a hasty retreat to his bedroom and the master bath. He flipped the water on first so that it could begin filling, making sure that it wasn’t too hot before dumping in what was probably way too many bubbles. The candles came after, an even dozen that he nearly burnt his fingers lighting in haste. Two robes and a handful of towel later he heard Sonny looking for him.

“In here,” he called, flipping the lights off and starting the playlist. The effect was instantaneous, the music and soft light and the scent of lavender and vanilla filling the room on the rising heat from the water.

Sonny gave him a faint smile as Chad watched her. “You didn’t have to do this, Chad,” she told him.

“Ah,” he murmured as he pulled her closer, fingers numbly working the buttons up the front of her shirt. He slid the material down her shoulders dropping a kiss to the swell of her breast just over her heart. “I wanted to, Sonny, have for days. Come on, let’s get you in, yeah?”

She let him undress her, a study in sensuality all on its own as he stripped her of her jeans and then her bra and panties. Sonny had to pile her hair onto the top of her head, he simply had no idea how to do it as well and easily as she did, but the moment after he ushered her into the half full tub he turned the water off.

“There’s not enough water,” she started before he cut her off with a smug smirk.

“Of course, there isn’t,” he told her as he tugged his own shirt over his head. His hands were on the button of his jeans as he finished. “If there were more we’d flood the bathroom when I joined you.”

The look on her face was absolutely priceless, and Chad didn’t bother trying not to smile as he finished stripping his clothes off and slid into the water.

To his surprise she slithered around to lay her head on top of him, her skin slick against his and doing wonderful things to his libido as she settled fully against him. Even more surprising, she was willing to just lie there, one hand submerged and fingers absently moving along his side as he let his chin settle on the top of her head, the hair up in the loose ponytail curling and tickling his face as he did. He sighed and let his arms come around her to hold Sonny securely to him.

“This is nice,” she murmured after a while. “Between the candles and the music. You’re very good at this.”

He chuckled softly. It was becoming a running joke between them, he realized. “Well, I try. I’d like to be a good boyfriend.”

Chad tried not to read too much into the way her body suddenly tensed against his, her fingers stilling and water dripping as she lifted up to look at him. It might have been too soon to say it, but Chad didn’t see any sense in not clarifying how he felt about the relationship. It would be foolish not to stake his claim, foolish not to make it clear what he wanted. And foolish to let her think that he just saw her as convenient, casual.

Chad Cooper did not want a casual relationship with Sonny Monroe. Not in the least.

“Boyfriend?” she asked him cautiously. Chad couldn’t help the wince he felt on his face at her tone.

“Too soon, huh?” he asked facetiously, not really sure he wanted to have this conversation anymore. It seemed well and good before she suddenly seemed so uncomfortable with the label. “I should have brought it up later. Or sooner, maybe, since you—”

Her fingers were wet and slippery as she pressed them to his mouth, silencing him midsentence. “Did you mean that, Chad? The boyfriend thing?”

It didn’t really need clarification, he thought, but Chad didn’t say that. He nodded, one quick, sharp movement. There was every chance in the world that she’d decide to get out and leave him alone in what he meant to be a romantic bath for two. (If it happened to lead to something else he was perfectly fine with that, but he certainly didn’t want to her to think that sex was all he had in mind for this.)

And then she smiled.

“So… you’re not upset with me?” he asked her a moment after her hand slipped from his mouth giving him leave to speak again.

She settled back down against him, water sloshing almost over the edge of the oversized tub as she did so. His arms came up around her automatically to secure her against him. “Not upset. I actually like it. I like the idea of being your girlfriend.”

His fingers clenched on her skin convulsively as she said that and his voice was a little hoarse when he answered, “I like that idea too, very much so.”

Somehow silence seemed easy after that, just existing together in the confines of the bathroom. Chad was more than content to let his world dwindle to the tub, and her and him. It was simple and private and utterly exquisite. So Chad let himself drift. After all, Sonny seemed very content lying atop him. There was no reason to really think much at all.

The water was beginning to cool when Chad finally moved, one hand reaching for the faucet that was centered along the wall side of the tub. He flipped the hot water on to offset the chill more quickly, then pressed a kiss to Sonny’s hair. “Slide up for a minute, sunshine,” he murmured.

As she did he reached behind him to drain a bit of the water out so the tub wouldn’t overflow as he made it hot again. He gauged a third of the tub enough and stopped it again before looking over the edge of the tub under her amused and somewhat sleepy gaze. The wine, where was the wine? It only took Chad a minute to realize that in all of his secret preparations he’d forgotten the bottle of white zinfandel cooling in the fridge. The glasses, too, he realized, dismayed.

“I forgot the wine,” he said plaintively. He couldn’t help the laugh that followed the almost pitiful whine.

Sonny giggled herself before shimmying up his body to settle the center of her heat against him, bringing him instantly to full wakefulness in more ways than one. Her lips tickled his ear as she breathed, “I can think of better ways to make us dizzy.”

As her mouth found his Chad didn’t even care that the water was definitely going to flood the bathroom floor.

 

Chad had always been such an ass when they were kids that Sonny found it hard to believe what a closet romantic he was. The bubble bath the night before had been, if not unexpected with the hints he’d dropped in the last week, extremely endearing. Especially how he carried it out in complete secrecy. Though the look on his face when he realized his perfect plan had been foiled by the lack of wine he’d meant to have.

Not that they needed it; the eight towels still wet on the floor could attest to that.

But he’d been entirely solicitous this morning, waking her with gentle, teasing kisses and bringing her coffee in bed when she declined breakfast. He’d even indulged her in a slow session of long kisses that did amazing things inside her and made Sonny wish that they didn’t have to shoot so early. But duty called and before things could get out of hand they’d escaped the far too enticing bed.

While she’d dressed he’d done cleanup duty, carting the towels to the washing machine and making sure that the bathroom floor was dry. While he’d dressed she’d found a box of croissants and put together a few with some cinnamon he had hidden in a cabinet. It was an entirely agreeable arrangement. If Sonny had been paying any attention at all she might have been a little disconcerted by how easily they accommodated their routines to the other, how well they fit.

But they were too good together for her to even notice it now, like two halves of a whole. And complete with titles now. Boyfriend. He was her boyfriend. But his own admission and request. The thought made her head spin just as much as that wine he’d missed last night would have, just as much as the erotic hour spent making love in the water had.

She sighed. It was perfect without being perfect.

“Do you want to get a cab or walk?” he asked as he cleaned up, Sonny leafing through her lines for the morning shoot. The final London shoot, she thought with a hint of pleasure and relief.

She flipped her script closed and shoved it into her bag, looping it over her shoulder as she stood. “We can walk, the weather is nice enough even if it’s cold.”

He laughed. “Alright then, we’d better get going so we won’t be too late.”

“We won’t be late at all,” Sonny retorted as she followed him through the door and waited for him to lock it behind them. She sidled up to him, his arm resting comfortably around her shoulder as they rode the elevator down.

Then they walked out the front entrance and the peace vanished in a frenzy of flashing bulbs and shouted questions.

“Sonny, how long have you and Chad been dating?”

“Is there a wedding?”

“Did you elope after Sonny left _So Random_ , Chad?”

“Is it true that Sonny left _So Random_ because she was pregnant with you lovechild?”

“Did Condor Studios force you to quit because of your relationship?”

“Is it true that this movie is based on your relationship?”

“Did you get this role by sleeping with your costar?”

The fury of the camera flashes blinded Sonny just as much as the dozen questions hurled at her and Chad both. Her mind froze and Sonny stood there, mouth slack and eyes wide with fear and shock. The way she huddled into Chad was instinctive but the way she tore herself away from her was a more deeply driven urge. She gave in to the need to flee the questions and demands and photographs. The foyer doors swung shut behind her as she beat a hasty retreat to the dubious safety of the elevator. It never occurred to Sonny to wait for Chad, the uncontrollable shaking of her body driving her to get as far away from the paparazzi as fast as she could.

But her hands were shaking so badly as she tried to unlock the door of his apartment that Sonny couldn’t manage it. She felt so afraid and frazzled and completely desperate that she never heard the elevator ringing as it returned with Chad. She only noticed him when his hand slid over hers and pulled it away from the lock, his other smoothly inserting the key and turning it.

Sonny let Chad lead her to the couch, leaving her there clutching at herself, shaking with her head tucked and eyes closed trying to block everything in the world out.

“Owen? Yeah,” she heard Chad say on the edge of her awareness, limited as it was. “Paparazzi, everywhere.”

She shuddered at that, hating the sudden flash of bulbs in her memory, the accusing questions tossed at her in her mind. She bit back a low moan, feeling sick. It was all going to come out, the secrets that Marshall and Mr. Condor had helped her with to avoid the very press she would shortly have to face. The thought left Sonny’s mind an utter blank devoid of any rational thought.

“Yeah, not leaving, sorry,” Chad was saying now. She heard him curse vividly, then, “I knew it was going to be a fucking mess when it came out but I never expected this much.”

The words reverberated in Sonny’s mind as Chad hung up the phone. In seconds he was with her on his knees. “Are you alright?”

“You knew it was going to be a mess?” she asked him, her voice brittle with the strain, breaking as she finished the biting question.

“Well it was obvious given our history.”

He seemed so calm about it. She pushed his hands away and stood pacing back to the hall. “You knew?”

His continued unruffled attitude made her shake with anger as he came to her again. “Of course I knew,” he said matter of factly, as if it was plain knowledge.

She turned on him, eyes wide. “You said it was between _us_ , Chad! How could you?” Her entire body felt like it was shaking, heart beating fast and her stomach turning.

“Sonny, what are you talking about?” he asked, her composure cracking for the first time since he followed her back into the apartment.

She bristled. “Discretion,” she hissed. “I thought we were agreed.”

She saw understanding in his eyes and his hands come up in a pleading gesture. “I didn’t mean—”

A loud crack split the air as she slapped him. Her hand stung and she watched as he raised one of his to his mouth, touching it coming away, fingers glistening red. She didn’t care. In fact, Sonny was glad. Now maybe he could hurt half as much as she was now. He’d promised. _Promised._ And he’d broken it. He’d played her—it hurt so badly.

“I should have known better,” she told him bitterly, clutching at her purse as she backed away from him. “You’re Chad Dylan Cooper, after all. Publicity is your middle name.”

She didn’t wait for his answer before she let herself out of the apartment. She’d rather face hordes of reporters and photographers than spend a single moment more with him.


	13. Chapter 13

There should have been someone to blame, but Chad wasn’t sure who that person was. Him, possibly, at least a little. Even if he hadn’t been the one to let the cat out of the bag. And Chad, really, truly, desperately wanted to know who that was, because he owed them something. Maybe not a slap on the face, but if it was a guy he could totally deck them. And then kick them a couple of times while they were down.

He wanted to blame Sonny. She deserved it, a little. She should have trusted him, listened to him, given him a chance to explain. Instead she’d set him so off balance that Chad hadn’t even really processed what she was accusing him of until it was too late and she was out the door.

He’d chased her. Oh god yes, he’d chased her. But she must have cut through the paparazzi like a hot knife through butter, she’d been gone so fast. He didn’t stand a chance against all of those flashing bulbs. And while it didn’t normally bother him (how could it? he was Chad Dylan Cooper and he’d been dealing with that particular bullshit for years past wanting to count) this morning it just pissed him off.

He’d broken a camera and threatened two of the psychotic gossipmongers before retreating back into the building. Then he’d snuck out the service way and headed for his favorite pub, where he’d been for the last ten hours steadily drinking and occasionally breaking his fast with typical bar fare.

Though the request for hot wings had been met with an odd look. Or two.

Sometimes he wished he were back in America where beer and wings wasn’t odd. But he wasn’t. At least he didn’t have to deal with watered down beer. No, they had good lager here, and pilsner. Guinness. But he’d moved on to Jack on the rocks a bit ago and was pleasantly blurred right now. If he was honest, he was pretty far past blurred.

“Getting pissing drunk isn’t going to help anything.”

Chad gave a halfhearted grunt of rejection without turning to look at Owen. “Sure, it will.”

“It’ll still be a sodding mess tomorrow, and you’ll have a hangover as well.” Owen settled himself on the empty stool next to Chad as Chad continued trying to ignore him. It was just easier to do that than to admit that Owen was right.

“Does it make a difference?” he demanded, ironically pleased that his words weren’t slurred in the least.

They sat in silence while Owen signaled the bartender for a pint of his own, no Jack, and plucked one of the leftover lengths of potato from his mostly full plate of fish and chips. He made the mistake of thinking he was safe, that Owen was just there to wait him out and take him home and pour him into his own bed.

“She came to me,” Owen told him. Chad’s jaw clenched, but he refused to say anything. “And yes, it _is_ all over the telly.”

Chad snorted at that. “No fucking kidding. I could have told you it would be. We have a history.” The word was ripped out of him angrily, because if it hadn’t been for that history back at Condor Studios, there wouldn’t have been such a furor over the news they were dating.

No, if it hadn’t been for _history_ they could have swept by under the radar and been safe from all of the idiot pop culture journalists back in Los Angeles, from the upstarts sitting around in London waiting for the next sighting of Brangelina or the Cruises or some surprise trip from equally entertaining celebrity couples. Fuck, they could still have been salivating over the royal family for all Chad cared, just as long as he and Sonny had been left in peace.

Instead, they were left in pieces. Chad had no idea how to pick them up and glue them back together.

“So she’s staying with you?” Chad finally asked, his anger breaking on the fulcrum of his need to know.

“Mm hm. For tonight, at least,” Owen replied, taking another drink of his beer before sitting the glass back down. “She spent most of the day flipping channels and crying whenever she came across the story.”

“Fuck,” Chad murmured as he rubbed a hand across tired eyes. “She hates me.”

It was Owen’s turn to snort at the self-pitying statement. “She loves you. But she’s terribly hurt.”

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Chad growled. “Just you. I would never break her trust like that. Not when I finally had it.”

“I didn’t say you had,” Owen told him pointedly. “Never even suggested it. But as discreet as you tried to be, all anyone had to see was how you looked at each other.”

Chad laughed, a broken sounding hollow thing. “We should have been safe, even if anyone had seen us. This is London. It’s not fucking L.A. No one should have known who she was, even if someone did recognize me.”

He drained the Jack in front of him and lifted a finger for another one. Owen grabbed his hand, pulling it back down before the man behind the bar could see it, effectively cutting Chad off at the knees. For the moment, at least, because Chad yanked his hand away and glared at his best friend. The anger drained away as he saw his best friend staring back with worried green eyes, tension lining his mouth and making his jaw strain with clenched teeth.

“Owen, just…” Chad shook his head before crossing his arms on the bar and dropping his head onto them.

“We’re not going to talk about her or this mess for a few minutes. I expect you’ve been running yourself around that particular circle all day,” Owen finally said. He sounded muffled, but Chad tilted his head to the side to get a passing glance out from the dubious safety of his presumed hiding place.

“What’re we going to talk about then?” he mumbled, as if anything else to talk about where completely insane. Though to Chad talking about Sonny was only to be expected considering the nightmare his world had become that morning.

Owen pursed his lips and took another swallow of beer. “Well, we could talk about how today’s shoot got completely bollixed when neither of my stars showed up to set. Actually,” he amended, “it went rather too far south when the idiots from the rags showed up and crashed the shoot.”

“I’d like to shoot them,” was Chad’s dark reply, face still buried against his arms. “A couple times. Each.”

“Now, now,” Owen soothed with a pat to Chad’s shoulder. “Homicide rarely solves any problems. And you can’t be an actor from prison.”

“Temporary insanity.”

“Completely fucking insane,” Owen shot back. “You fucked it up with her years ago. But we’re not talking about Sonny or the mess, as I said before. We need to figure out how to deal with this. We’ve some down time headed our way before we head out to the estate to finish up.”

Chad’s laugh sounded more like a sob. He was completely mortified but didn’t bother raising his head to face Owen. If filming was off schedule they might never get the rest of the movie done, and then there would be an enormous waste of money, Owen’s and his own, and the time and effort everyone had put into the movie. They couldn’t have that.

With a sigh Chad righted himself, blinking and finally pushing his empty glass away without trying for another shot. “Is she going to be willing to finish the shoot?” he asked tentatively.

Owen inhaled, air fairly whistling through his teeth as he did. “I haven’t quite asked her that one yet, but I imagine she would since she’s under contract.”

“Why would that make a difference?”

“I’m under the impression that she would have turned tail and ran when she learned you were her housemate if it weren’t for that contract,” Owen chuckled. “A fine sense of duty and responsibility in that one.”

“You know I’ll finish,” Chad told him with a pointed glare. “We’ve sunk too much time and effort into this for me to drop out now.”

“And money,” Owen reminded him. “Let’s not forget that, because that’s a large sum for you to just toss away because of something as stupid as this.”

“Stupid? _Stupid?_ ” Chad was outrage at the choice of words.

“Chad.” Owen’s tone was sharp enough to cut steel and Chad throttled back the rage he felt at his best friend’s belittling term. “We both know it wasn’t you who said anything, so it’s a stupid misunderstanding that we’ll get sorted out somehow.”

“Impossible,” Chad replied, his shoulders dropping with dejection.

“No, it’s not. But first, let’s get you home to sleep it off. We’ll shoot today’s scenes after Wales, alright?”

“If you say so. But I’m not drunk, I’m just buzzed. Really, really buzzed,” he attempted to convince Owen, who only laughed.

“You’re already drunk,” Owen sighed.

“A little,” Chad conceded. He tried to stand and the world tilted dangerously. “A lot,” Chad admitted as he sank back into the barstool, head still spinning.

Owen chuckled again. “Alright, I’ll buy you another pint and we’ll try and sort this out. And if you remember anything tomorrow I’ll be amazed. How’s that sound?”

“Maybe I’ll just have a soda,” Chad told him before settling in to his best friends’ advice.

 

Owen was being really decent about the whole thing, Sonny finally decided after her third day hiding out in his townhouse. He’d offered to get one of the women from the crew to put her up for the duration of the break in filming, but he’d told her bluntly that if she wanted to stay she was welcome to his spare room until it was time to go back to New York. She hadn’t leapt at the offer, but jumping might have been involved, metaphorically speaking.

Besides, it wasn’t like she could go back to Chad’s. Even if part of her still considered it home now.

Instead, she’d given Owen her key to Chad’s apartment and asked him without tears if he could see to getting her things for her. He had, though she was a bra short. It was probably in Chad’s room, a memento for the rat bastard of their brief (glorious) time together. Sonny hoped it magically strangled him while he slept one night.

She’d paid Owen back the favor by cooking for him. A lot. That was something she’d inherited from her mom, it was in the genes to cook copious amounts of wondrously flavored food when stressed, depressed, or otherwise emotionally overstretched. The bitch of it was she had no real appetite herself, so Owen was foisting extra meals off on anyone he could get to take them. Luckily, she was a decent chef so it wasn’t too difficult convincing people to eat it.

Though, if it had been Chad, she might have poisoned it on principle. Well, maybe just some Ex-Lax or something. She’d heard Visine worked wonders on jerk exes, and Sonny was pretty sure she’d like to try it out on Chad.

Fuck. She was twenty-two and moping around like she was some teenaged emo reject from high school. She needed to get it together. Even she could admit that, even if she wouldn’t to anyone’s face.

Tawni had offered to come out, an offer which Sonny had sort of said yes to. She was expecting the starlet to arrive the tonight before they headed to Wales to deal with all of shooting that would be taking place there. Nico had offered to accompany Tawni with very unsubtle suggestions of breaking Chad’s legs. And arms. And face.

She hadn’t said yes, but she hadn’t said no, either.

Grady had suggested the Visine trick, though, and Zora had already sent her a homemade recipe for Napalm. Sometimes Sonny worried about the youngest cast member from _So Random_ , but she meant well. Or she meant violence. Sonny was pretty sure they meant the same thing to Zora. But neither of them could drop what they were doing at the moment and head for London just to be emotional support.

Though they, too, had offered. Especially after the four of them had fallen victim to the paparazzi machine with reporters and cameramen jumping out from behind any and all stationary objects to try and interrogate them about the past and present incarnations of what they had annoyingly dubbed ‘Channy’ with gusto and enthusiasm.

She shook her head in annoyance. Even in her own mind she was repeating herself, just with different words. She needed a shower and a new perspective. Not that she was going to find one since Owen seemed to be firmly in Chad’s corner. He hadn’t said as much, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. At least two people from the crew had asked her if she might have flown off the handle a bit, but once they’d seen Sharona’s column online they’d backed off.

Of course, the way she’d looked at them might have had something to do with that. Homicide flying from the pretty girl’s eyes was a little off-putting.

She was packing her meager belongings for that since they were being put up by Jimmy’s family while they were there. He’d been a sweetheart and offered to put Tawni up, too, though Tawni had declined as politely as she was able. “Tawni Hart does _not_ do horses or mansions in the middle of nowhere unless there’s a fabulous single man offering.”

Since Jimmy was not single, nor Tawni’s definition of fabulous, she was going to spend the five-day shoot in a five-star hotel, shopping, and being seen. Which was what Tawni Hart did best, outside of her trendy Hollywood darling acting. Sonny could deal with that, it was going to be hard enough dealing with Chad in Wales without Tawni there trying not to incite anything and failing spectacularly. Drama followed the girl like spots followed a Dalmatian.

She was mostly packed, only her clothes for the night and tomorrow laid out and the toiletries she needed to get by until they left. She’d just shove them in her duffel before they left and it’d be alright. She collapsed back on the bed with a sigh. She didn’t need this, she didn’t need Chad. And if it weren’t for the fact that she believed in this movie she’d have left the day the story broke, contract or no contract.

“Fuck him. Fuck the contract. I didn’t do anything bad enough in my life to deserve this,” she muttered as she stared up at the ceiling.

“Allison?”

She jerked upright so fast that she knocked her bag off of the bed, scattering at least half of her carefully packed clothes. She muttered a curse as she booted the duffel, passing it and the fresh mess to open the door with a smile.

“You rang?” The dry humor came off stilted, but Sonny couldn’t help it. It wasn’t like she needed to act right now. She’d save the good stuff for when the cameras were rolling.

“We’ve got another read-through to do,” he informed her, eyes shadowed and looking greener than ever. Sonny bit her lip. “I want to make sure that we can do this before we waste the time heading out to Wales. You understand?”

She nodded, resolute. “Here?”

Owen shook his head. “We’re going to more neutral ground; Nicole has offered her flat as the sacrificial altar in case it doesn’t work out.”

She tried to laugh but couldn’t. “It’ll work,” she told Owen with more conviction than she felt. She grabbed her purse and followed him silently, knowing that tonight would be the first time she faced Chad since she’d walked out on him. Slapped him and walked out, she amended silently. And then sent his best friend to do her own dirty work.

Maybe she’d ask him for her bra back. After all, it wasn’t like the entire world wasn’t already aware of the fact that she’d been sleeping with him, even if neither she or Chad had given interviews or confirmed the fact. She had to give him credit for that much. He may have sold her out, but so far he hadn’t given up the details to their private, intimate weeks together.

She should be grateful, Sonny knew. She just didn’t care all that much. Should be didn’t mean she was or ever would be.

Sharing a cab with Owen was different than sharing one with Chad. At first there had been tension between them, the remnants of the angry feuding that had ruled the time she’d spent working on _So Random_ , and after that the sexual tension that had made them so good together in bed. Or the tension that just existed between them, the chemistry that just made them good together, period.

It was like riding along with a sibling, albeit one who shared no blood, had at one time been attracted to her, and was now her nominal employer. Or she could just say it was a quiet ride, which was a hell of a lot simpler to think than going into the details.

For a moment Sonny had the dismaying fear that tomorrow headlines across all of the gossip magazines would read that she was now sleeping with her director. What a great article that would be; she jumped from her costar to Owen, a feud between best friends, the fight for her affections.

She didn’t need that, but it was too late to insist on separate cabs, even if she could bring herself to tell Owen of the sudden nagging fear. Besides, it wouldn’t do much for them. She was living with Owen now, which wasn’t a state secret.

“Are you alright, Allison?” Owen asked her.

Sonny blinked up at him, only now realizing that her face had been buried in her hands and her body was singing with stress. She nodded, too afraid to say all of the things that she’d been thinking. Mortified that he would realize she’d been thinking all of those things in order to try and _not_ think about that fact she was about to see Chad again.

His voice was soft as he reached a hand out to touch her shoulder. “I know this is going to be hard, but it’s necessary.”

She nodded again. “Doesn’t make it any easier,” she mumbled as the cab pulled to the side of the street and stopped. She took a deep, calming breath as Owen passed a few pound notes up to the driver and then opened the door to let them both out. She followed, docile, inwardly shaking.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t see Chad, she wasn’t ready. She should have told Owen to wait a minute while she changed, draped herself in something devastating, a little makeup, something with her hair. Anything to make Chad regret what he’d done. A bitch of a reminder that if he’d kept his damned mouth shut and forgotten about five years ago she’d be going home with him tonight.

She snorted, a faint, delicate sound in the back of her throat. There wouldn’t even be a reading tonight if the news hadn’t broken the relationship. They would have finished their London filming five days ago and she would be home with him right now, watching a movie, eating dinner, sharing a bath. Making love.

She might even have told him by now that she was completely in love with him. Even if she didn’t want to be anymore.

“I need you to be ready,” Owen warned her as he raised a hand to knock on the apartment door he’d led her to. Sonny nodded again, the only motion she seemed capable of right now. He returned the nod and knocked three times.

The door swung in on the third knock leaving his fist hanging in the air. Chad was standing there, pale blond hair mussed, blue eyes shadowed and tired, glued on her. She hated him in that moment, because no matter what had happened, she still loved him. She did the only thing she could.

Sonny smiled her favorite smile and breezed past him to greet everyone else without a word for Chad.


	14. Chapter 14

“So tell me all the details,” Tawni chirped at Sonny the moment she’d settled her pink luggage and tipped the bellhop.

Despite having just come off of an eighteen-hour flight, the blond looked surprisingly put together. Sonny figured that she probably shouldn’t be surprised. This was Tawni Hart after all, and the blond probably spent at least the last forty-five minutes of her transatlantic flight primping in the confines of the airplane’s bathroom. It sounded shallow, yes, but Tawni had made her career on always looking as great as she did. It would be bad press for her to look anything otherwise.

Sonny didn’t even bother resisting the requisite eye roll as she settled onto the king-sized bed. “There are no details to be shared.”

Tawni sniffed prissily as she lifted one of the suitcases to the bed and busily unzipped it. Flipping it open she pulled out the first of several dresses and blouses, laying them flat on the bed under Sonny’s watchful eyes. “I know you’re not going to dish about the sex, Sonny, so you can get off your high horse.”

Sonny spared a moment to snort at the blond before rolling to her stomach and buried her face in her arms.

“Besides, we both know it had to be great,” Tawni continued. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have been so closed mouth about it.”

She was really grateful that her now flaming red face was hidden from Tawni’s suddenly piercing gaze. “I have absolutely no comment about sex with Chad Cooper.”

Tawni gave an airy laugh as she began hunting out hangers for her clothes. As many times as she’d lectured Sonny about letting fabrics breathe after a long flight – “It will cut down on the necessity of ironing, especially if you steam them in the bathroom, Sonny!” – Sonny knew better than to comment on the other girl’s routine. It was just easier this way. Tawni made it through three blouses, two pairs of pants and half a dozen dresses before she finally resumed her interrogation.

“Did you know you’ve been referring to him as Chad Cooper and not Chad _Dylan_ Cooper?” Tawni casually demanded in a tone that insisted the question meant something.

Sonny coughed into her arms, choking on the denial that wanted to come out from anger and habit. But she tried not to lie, especially to her friends.

“It’s very interesting,” Tawni told her matter-of-factly, without waiting for Sonny to actually reply. But then, Tawni was the queen of rhetorical questions. “And anyway, I want to know about the relationship. I can always wiggle the bedroom details out of you later.”

Sonny darted upright, mouth open in sudden protest. “I don’t have any bedroom details you can have!”

“But you _have_ them,” was Tawni’s smug rejoinder. “Now, tell me about what’s been going on with you two.”

Sonny collapsed back again and pulled a pillow over her face. She didn’t want to answer Tawni’s questions, not in the least, even if the girl was one of her very best friends. She didn’t want to have to so much as think about Chad Cooper until she was trapped in front of a camera with him again. _But_ , it was her own fault. She could have told Tawni to stay in Hollywood. She could have managed keeping the growing relationship with Chad from Tawni (and Nico, Grady and Zora) better.

Or maybe not, because next to Lucy, Tawni was who she told everything to.

It was like fighting the inevitable, something that Sonny was just too tired to try now. So she told Tawni everything, from the lingering looks he’d given her the first night when she was wearing his pajamas, to the way they could go from cooking alone for the two of them to working in tandem in the kitchen without any problem. From the casual affection they could bestow on each other at home to the more intimate touches when no one was watching on set.

Once she started Sonny couldn’t stop it. the relationship was so painful to talk about, but she couldn’t help herself. The burgeoning friendship that somehow felt so unshakable until the morning when it all came crashing down. The romance that seemed so genuine.

“He made me a bubble bath,” she said plaintively at the last. “With candles and music and he felt bad that he forgot the wine!”

“Aw,” Tawni cooed, her unpacking having been finished while Sonny rambled. She was carefully arranged on the bed across from Sonny watching her avidly, a smile wide on her face. “That’s so sweet.”

Sonny cleared her throat and ducked her head down. “And he may or may not have climbed in with me, too.”

The silence made Sonny’s dark eyes dart back up to Tawni’s much lighter blue which were now watching her carefully. “That doesn’t sound like the Chad Dylan Cooper we used to know. Not at all.”

“I know,” Sonny mumbled helplessly before rolling to her stomach and burying her face in the bed. “Nothing he’s really done since I got her is like Chad _Dylan_ Cooper. It’s just Chad now.”

She grumped at the poke Tawni gave her and rolled to her side glaring.

Tawni only shrugged. “Well, next time try speaking to me instead of to the mattress. You’re lucky I understood it and that I like you as much as I do, or I’d make you say that all over again to my face.” She smiled serenely when Sonny stuck her tongue out at her.

“Well, there’s just one thing I have to say about all of this,” Tawni finally decreed.

Sonny waited with bated breath, wondering if she was going to shove the blond off of the bed. “Well, what is it?” she finally asked, voice laced with annoyance.

Tawni pointed at her. “You’re in love with him.”

“What? No,” Sonny denied, sitting up and sliding off of the bed. “How could I be in love with Chad Cooper?”

“You’re in love,” Tawni sing-songed at her, this time giving a giggle as she did so. “And he doesn’t seem so bad anymore, either.”

“I know,” Sonny finally whimpered, sinking down on to the wingback chair next to the bed. “I know, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Are you sure he told them, Sonny?” Tawni asked her seriously, all trace of humor gone now. “Are you sure it’s not just a misunderstanding?”

“I don’t know,” Sonny admitted. “But it’s not like he hasn’t done something like this before. Or don’t you remember when he blogged about the kiss that didn’t really happen?”

“Or the time when he told Ellen that you’d asked him out like twenty times,” Tawni added.

Sonny grimaced at the memory. “Or the time he told Marshall and Mr. Condor he was late because he was making out with me in the closet.”

“Or the time—”

“Alright, alright, we get the picture, Tawni,” Sonny rolled her eyes, interrupting before the other girl could add yet another transgression to Chad’s list of many. It wasn’t as if Sonny needed the reminder, not when she was living the worst one right now.

The blond just shrugged as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Well, it’s not like we don’t know he used to be the world’s biggest jerk.” Sonny nodded in quick agreement. “He just doesn’t seem so bad now.”

It took her a moment before she slowly admitted, “He’s not.” It came, loathing to cross her lips. Under current circumstances, Sonny thought that she had every right to not want to acknowledge the better parts of his personality. But she couldn’t deny this one, because he really wasn’t that bad. Well, outside of apparently having aired their sordid little affair to the world. Other than that? He was a sweetheart.

“He’s not at all,” Sonny muttered, pausing before continuing softly. “He knew about the accident, and my parents. He knew that I was in the car.”

“Wait – what?” came Tawni, her voice almost harsh with surprise. “How’d he find out about that? I swear, Sonny, I _never_ told anyone, especially not Chad.”

Sonny’s hands came up to soothe the other girl’s worry. “I know you didn’t, Tawni. He hired a private investigator.”

“Stalker much?”

Sonny chuckled. “A little. He said he felt bad about that thing at the Emmy’s. He thought that’s why I left _So Random_.”

Something fluttered across Tawni’s face, but it was gone too fast for Sonny to identify it. Keeping an outward mask of calm was second nature to Hollywood’s sweetheart by now, and the habit was obviously difficult to shed. “But it wasn’t.”

Sonny shook her head. “He knows. But apparently finding all of that stuff out was… I don’t know. I don’t care either. Can we not talk about Chad anymore?”

“And just when I was getting somewhere with it,” Tawni teased her as gently as she could. Sonny just shook her head, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “So take me shopping. You have to know all the good places by now.”

“And now I can prove that some things just never change. Come on,” Sonny said, laughing as she did. “I know a few places you’ll love. Think vintage, things that haven’t been seen in thirty or forty years. You’ll be a fashion pioneer or something.”

Tawni sniffed as she scooped up her purse. “I prefer maven or visionary, thank you very much.”

It was a good day to spend the afternoon. Sonny knew it when she gave in to shopping with Tawni so easily, something she’d spent years avoiding like the plague whenever one would visit the other. Shopping with Tawni Hart required nerves of steel in the face of shocked retail employees, the world’s strongest arms to carry the inevitable coterie of bags, and the ability to move at about a billion miles an hour from sale to sale to store to wherever Tawni decided to go next. But the woman had taste, and even if Sonny’s tended to be pretty different, Tawni did often point her at things that they both liked and looked amazing on her.

Taking her to Camden was out of the question, Sonny decided almost immediately. It was too open for one, which would never do once Tawni was recognized. For two, the atmosphere was a little more bohemian than the starlet would care for. She was still spoiled enough to want to be catered to and since Sonny had taught her the art of tipping well for good service, Sonny didn’t mind it so much anymore. (To tell the truth, she half enjoyed trying to figure out how, exactly, the woman managed to make salespeople jump to her slightest whim.)

So Sonny did the next best thing and dragged her all around to the shops that Chad had shown her over the last few weeks. And if she couldn’t quite pretend that the memories they’d made doing so didn’t hurt her now, Sonny was a good enough actress that no one else could tell.

“I want you to try something on, Sonny,” Tawni insisted at the fifth such place, a definite hole-in-the wall vintage couturier who specialized in remakes of classics. Sonny had reason enough to know since she’d bought several things for herself, including the dress Tawni had just whirled out of the dressing room in.

Sonny shook her head and held her hands up to try and fend Tawni off. “I already went through this all with Chad,” she tried, hoping to convince Tawni to leave her be.

The blond wouldn’t, tossing the hanger with the silky blue kimono-like dress at her forcing Sonny to catch it or be hit. “You’re such a stick in the mud. You haven’t tried a thing on today. Now come on, relax, live a little. You’re twenty-two, not two hundred and two.”

“I know how old I am,” Sonny muttered dryly as she held the hanger up and gave the dress a once over before shaking her head. “This isn’t really my style,” she tried telling Tawni. Not that the dress wasn’t pretty enough, but the keyhole opening from throat to cleavage was a little daunting to think of wearing, and the length (or lack of) made Sonny wonder if it was a dress or lingerie.

“Come on, Sonny. Live a little,” Tawni repeated the adage again, all but shoving Sonny into a dressing room and insisting that she at least try it on.

She gave in with ill grace, pinning her hair out of the way with a clip from her purse before stripping down and slipping into the dress. It was as bad as she’d thought, too short, too much cleavage, and the bright blue made her feel pale and obvious. She snorted at her own image as Tawni called through the door wanting to see what it looked like.

“Not a chance in hell,” Sonny muttered, too low for Tawni to hear it otherwise the girl might have barged in to get a look. She cleared her throat and said a little louder, “It’s not all that flattering on me, Tawn. So no.”

“Allison Monroe, you will let me see that dress or I’ll make you regret it,” was the unwavering threat through the door.

Sonny hesitated for a moment, not really caring to show off the way she wore the dress. Then Tawni’s voice drifted again through the door. “I can call him and tell him about the time I caught you—”

“Alright!” Sonny interrupted, opening the door six inches to see Tawni’s smug face peering at her. “There, see? It doesn’t look as fabulous on me as it did in your mind. Happy?”

“Very,” Tawni all but chirped. “I got you into one thing, it’ll be so much easier with everything else.

Sonny groaned. The wicked shopper of the west coast was emerging and Sonny was scared. “Come on, Tawn. Can’t we just go back to your hotel and watch a movie? Gossip? Paint nails and other girly things that sound like so much more fun than indulging your insane need to play living dress-up doll with me?”

The hope of a little bonding, which Sonny was beginning to think was what Tawni had been aiming for, saved her from having to actually shop instead of just follow Tawni around. In fact, Sonny was pretty sure that Tawni had been aiming for a way to start interrogating her about Chad again, a prospect which was almost as daunting as shopping with the girl. But, Sonny rationalized, it would be easier evading questions and give half-truths than it would be having to spend most of her time contorting her body into strange clothes Tawni insisted she try on.

So Sonny dressed and hung the mock kimono up, once again finding herself following Tawni as she hefted three of the seven bags that Tawni had managed to fill in only a few hours. Another five minutes and Tawni was rung through the current shop, the tissue wrapped purchase being safely tucked into yet another bag that Tawni carelessly slid on her arm before they headed for the door.

Two steps before the door Tawni came to a halt, making Sonny look up from where she’d been poking in a bag looking for the bottle of water she’d bought three shops back. “What’s wrong?” she asked before her eyes made sense of what she was seeing through the sheer glass of the door.

Reporters. Paparazzi. Bloodsucking gossipmongers.

“They’re here for me,” Tawni told Sonny, her voice only wavering for a moment. “It’s not like I’ve been discrete, they want interviews or something.”

Sonny swallowed thickly against the sick feeling rising from her stomach, bile black and sour with anxiety. “Coincidence,” she offered unhappily, because there was a part of Sonny that already _knew_. Hoped that it wasn’t true, that they weren’t here for her, but just knew.

It was desperate desire to just _getitoverwith_ that made Sonny lift one foot, place it in front of the other, and walk as calmly as she could forward. The bags in her hands were heavy, the twisted paper handles digging into the skin of her arms and wrists as she pushed the plate glass door open and stepped outside, Tawni right behind her. Sick, desperate desire; her stomach twisted at the first shutter click of the cameras. Even if she was expecting it, the sound was still enough to make her sick.

The screaming mental litany of _oh god, oh god, oh god_ reverberated inside of her skull, but Sonny did her best to ignore it even as Tawni’s hand grasped her arm and pulled, the blond taking several quick steps to push herself between the questions and the suddenly scared Sonny. She was grateful for it, and for her friend. Sonny wasn’t sure that she would have been able to keep walking and trying to force her way through the press without Tawni.

Then the questions came.

_“Sonny, is it true that you’ve moved out of Chad Dylan Cooper’s apartment?”_

_“Will you leave the new film, Sonny?”_

_“How do you feel about leaving your leading man for your director?”_

_“Our sources say that you’re pregnant, Sonny. Who’s the father?”_

The questions were cold, callous, cruel. They made her head swim with revulsion and her body tense when people came close, microphones and cameras shoved in her face to capture her forever in print. And yet a piece of her raged inside. It wasn’t their business if she and Chad weren’t together anymore, if she was staying with Owen because she couldn’t face Chad and his betrayal. How dare they question her commitment to the project or the people she was working with.

And if she was pregnant Sonny sure as hell wasn’t going to tell complete strangers that she was or who the father was. It was _her_ business!

Her spine straightened a bit as Tawni shoved her way through the small but tightly packed crowd. “Back off, you vultures! No damned comment! And see if Tawni Hart ever interviews for you ever again!”

It brought a smile to Sonny’s beleaguered face. Of all the things that Tawni could ever offer to do, denying herself publicity was probably the most touching thing Sonny would never have dared dream up. She hurried, moving closer to Tawni as they began to get clear. They could grab a cab, head for the hotel, and everything would be alright. Sure, they might have made the evening gossip shows and probably would be viral across the internet, but there would be safety behind closed and locked doors.

 _“Sonny Monroe! Is it true that you left_ So Random _because of the deaths of your parents? The same accident that nearly killed you?”_

The blood left her face so quickly that she thought she would pass out. She blinked once, twice, and before she could blink a third time the world tilted.

 

Even if he were a complete asshole and really had told the entire world that he was involved with Sonny Monroe, Chad wasn’t a completely unfeeling monster. He wasn’t unfeeling at all, and where the pretty brunette was concerned he was quite possibly very oversensitive and more than a mite touchy. To find live footage on one of the urban gossip channels of her being hounded outside of a shop he’d taken her to once just incensed Chad more than he could believe possible.

Calling Owen on his cell and sending him to rescue Sonny wasn’t a plan, calculated or otherwise. It was just the only option, because Chad knew what they could and would do to her with their probing questions, picking and prodding at every insecurity, screeching every secret out for the world to know. He’d lived it for too long not to know what it felt like.

That feeling was why he lived a quiet, discrete and very private life in London instead of the CDC lifestyle in Los Angeles. Because he could only cope with that kind of treatment for so long, and if it could get bad here in Europe, it was ten times more brutal in Hollywood.

But still, he wasn’t expecting it when they asked her about the accident.

He was young and he could be stupid. Even if he was a year older than Sonny he knew he was way behind her in maturity. And Chad could have told them _never_ ask her about that, especially if they were going to divulge such obviously close guarded private things in such a public manner. There was a split second of footage after that, the camera trained on Sonny’s face, Chad’s eyes glued to hers via the television screen.

And then the camera rocked wildly before hitting the ground with the image cutting out.

“Way to go, Tawni,” he breathed. And then he prepared. He had a key to Owen’s, Owen was already on his way to get Sonny and deal with the assholes that were hounding her.

The least Chad could do was make sure there was food and maybe a few creature comforts for the woman he loved. She was going to be feeling pretty bad by the time Owen got her home and Chad was determined to give her what comfort he could since there was no way she would take any from him.

The run to Owen’s—for a run it had been—was fairly short and uneventful. If there had been any paparazzi near him they had wisely left him alone, which gave Chad plenty of time to straighten up the mostly tidy flat Owen owned. And though chicken noodle soup was the standby for every ailment from colds to broken hearts, Chad figured that going with one of Sonny’s favored chicken and pasta dishes was close enough.

And when the very concerned pair of Owen and Tawni brought Sonny in Chad was nearly done cooking, a hand towel slung over one shoulder, another tucked into his belt as a makeshift apron, and a wooden spoon clenched in one hand. Her face was pale as snow making her eyes burning holes therein when she met his for just a moment.

Just a moment, which was enough for Chad to see the soul searing agony of having her parents’ deaths thrust in her face like an entertainment commodity, her own near death just a bit of spice to that knowledge. There were wet trails streaking her face and, even with Tawni’s and Owen’s arms wrapped protectively and supportively around her, Sonny seemed so weak in the face of it all.

And then she was gone, taken straightaway to her room leaving Chad there with overdone noodles and burning chicken as anger overtook him. _I swear to god,_ he promised himself silently as he tried to rescue the food. _I’m going to find out who did this, and then I’m going to strangle them myself._


	15. Chapter 15

The trip to the Sancy family estates was long. Very long. Long enough to make Sonny wish they’d had it in the budget to fly or take a train instead of carpooling with twenty people, enough filming equipment to sink a small ship, and only five cars. The trip, which according to Owen would take six hours or so, took nearly twice that because of the multitude of bathroom breaks, food stops, and the fact that Jimmy couldn’t relay directions properly.

Sonny had used the stereotypical “Left, right?”, “Right,” “You were supposed to go left!” joke too many times on _So Random_ for her to ever believe it really happened anymore. It did; their side trip through Cardiff and Swansea proved that much.

But once that was sorted out the remainder of the trip passed surprisingly quickly. She was sure that was because it was dark, there was no notion of how far they were actually driving, and Owen, whom she’d be squished next to for the majority of the day, had fallen asleep and started drooling on himself. The amusement factor alone took up enough of her attention so that when the car finally rolled to a stop she didn’t realize that they had arrived until the car itself had been turned off.

After twelve hours Sonny was so grateful for it, to be out of the car and not condemned to it anymore, she nearly dropped to her knees to kiss the drive beneath her feet.

She had enough presence of mind not to, though. She could only imagine the kind of teasing she would be in for if she did that, or what Chad might say if he dared say anything at all. It was still more than she could bear to have him of all people tease her. She’d rather not speak to him at all except when they were in front of the camera.

But all of the hours’ worth of discomfort evaporated the moment she stopped to look up at the Sancy manor. An estate, she’d been told. It was very nearly a castle and Sonny couldn’t imagine that someone who could be living here would ever be working on a low budget film. Then again, she might be able to believe it since she was a nobody from Wisconsin who’d gotten an Emmy because someone saw a YouTube video.

“Right, come on, you lot,” Jimmy was crying from the now open door. The equipage would be left in the cars for the time being, from what Sonny understood. It was nearly eleven at night and there really was no fear that anyone would miraculously know where they were and steal it from the grounds.

So she followed everyone else, shouldering the small bag she’d afforded herself since most of her clothes would be wardrobe or readily laundered. The entry was as impressive as she could have asked for, grand ceiling stories up, a chandelier, sweeping stone staircase and even a suit of armor, much polished.

“Me family is off on holiday so we have the place to ourselves. The guest rooms are all up the stairs, second floor to the right. Pick a room and have a kip,” Jimmy told them.

Before anyone could argue he’d disappeared up the stairs, presumably to his own room, and the rest of them followed suit. Sonny was somewhere in the middle of the pack, trying not to laugh as everyone started chattering wearily about who got what room even before they’d all seen them. She wasn’t picky, and when she netted one halfway down the massive hall she let herself in and closed the door behind her with a sigh.

There was an attached bath with decent appointments, but Sonny barely paid them any attention as she pulled her nightshirt and clean underthings from her bag and proceeded to have a short but vigorously hot shower. Then she slid into the large, soft bed and didn’t know anything until morning.

Breakfast in the Sancy manor was not what she’d expected. True, she might have been getting fancy with her imagination, but the buffet style layout on the sideboard was better than that. The food was good and hot and Sonny thought she might be able to make it through the morning after eating her fill.

Then Owen dragged her outside to the stables.

“You have to learn to ride decently, Allison, and Jimmy here is just the one to teach you,” he said as jimmy sauntered up utterly at his ease in jeans and riding boots.

She frowned a bit but nodded. “So… now?”

Owen just arched an eyebrow at her. “You have today and maybe a bit tomorrow morning to get it done, then we start filming.”

He response was nothing but a pitiful, “Oh.”

Jimmy laughed and took her from Owen’s keeping, Sonny not missing the grin Owen shot her as she sent a pleading look his way. “Alright then, we’re going to introduce you to Blackfoot. She’s a doll, really, completely docile.”

The inside of the stables was lit with sunlight and smelled of old leather and soap and hay underlined with the musky scent of horse. It wasn’t unpleasant, though Sonny wasn’t ready to give it her seal of approval. She was finding that the abstract idea of learning to ride a horse sat much better with her than the reality of it, especially as she got glimpses inside the occupied stalls to either side. The horses were huge, their sheer size making her wonder what she’d signed herself up for.

It was easier to listen to Jimmy when he took her into a room lined with saddles and bridles and the rest of the equestrian accoutrements. “First thing, I want to show you the tack. This is a saddle,” he said, showing her one on a wooden stand in the middle of the room. “Seat, cantle, pommel, stirrups and leathers, girth,” he listed off as he pointed to each thing.

She repeated them like an obedient student before he lifted a bridle of the front. “Old Blackie likes a snaffle,” he said showing her the two part bit with the joint across the middle. As he showed her the rest of it and explained the reins and their use she started to relax a bit more.

“Now I want you to get on the saddle.”

“Right now?” she asked, eying the saddle on the stand dubiously.

“Right now,” he agreed, helping her on. “It’s easier to take your measure for the stirrup leather right now. Once you’re up I want to get you right into it, so the less to worry about then the sooner we can have you ready for the races.”

She flinched, feeling the blood leave her face.

“Hey now,” Jimmy said, suddenly solicitous with concern. “It’s just a bit of a joke. We won’t get you faster than a trot, I promise.”

It only took two tries to get her comfortably seated on top of the stand, and then Jimmy was shifting her legs and sliding leather and fiddling with buckles until he declared she was short and fetched a different set of stirrup leathers. Ten more minutes of replacing them and adjusting and he declared that she was ready to try it out for real. Sonny just shivered and followed him after he’d hefted the saddle, the bridle hanging from her hands as she tried not to let them shake.

Blackfoot lived up to her name, being a deeply brown mare with four black socks and matching mane and tail. She was smaller than the horses Sonny had initially seen on her way in behind Jimmy, but she still seemed enormously large to the girl who had never ridden before.

She obediently watched as Jimmy carefully dropped the saddle with the pad underneath on the mare’s back, making sure that it didn’t pull or lay crooked before reaching underneath the horse’s belly for the girth band. Sonny thought that she would die when he did that, knowing that he had to know what he was doing. But it looked precarious to her, half under the horse and so near the large hooves.

But the horse just stood there placidly as jimmy buckled and tightened the saddle on, even going to far as to jab his elbow in her side so that she grunted a breath out for him to tighten the girth two notches for. “She likes to hold her breath when we saddle her,” he grinned. “Been known to drop a careless rider when she let it out and the saddle tipped.”

She was sure Jimmy was trying to be amusing or reassuring or something. Sonny knew he had failed desperately when she felt the sweat springing to life on her face, goose bumps breaking out along her arms as she handed his expectant hand the bridle.

That was much simpler in Sonny’s eyes, sliding it up the horse’s head. She readily accepted the metal into her mouth and Jimmy had the bridle buckled on in short order. He clipped the lead to it and led the mare out with Sonny following at a distance before tying her to stand just outside the stable.

“Alright, Allison, let’s get you up.” He gave her a reassuring smile then, probably because she looked like she was going to be sick. “You’ve got good boots on, so we’ll just mount you up and take it from there, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” she agreed, albeit reluctantly.

In short order she had mounted properly from the left and was sitting in the saddle, reins in hand, back straight and heels properly down. “You look perfect,” Jimmy called from where he stood at the mare’s head. Sonny gave an uncertain laugh as he started leading Blackfoot forward.

“Now I’m going to lead her, you don’t have to worry about anything but getting a good feel for your seat,” he instructed.

With that deceptively simple order Sonny found herself lead around for the next four hours until her back was sore, her butt ached, and her legs trembled. It was frustrating work, though, between her nerves and trying to understand everything she was told to do. Jimmy was unfailingly kind about it, though every so often when the horse sidestepped and seemed to shimmy under her Jimmy would tell her she was ‘translating her nerves’. Not that she understood what that meant, but she was trying.

It didn’t help that after her first hour of instruction had passed Chad had appeared in the corner of her vision, jeans and boots on himself, and disappeared into the stable only to return ten minutes later astride one of the tall creatures that had set her nerves so badly in the first place.

And he wasn’t having _any_ trouble, the jerk.

When finally lunch was called Sonny nearly cried with relief as Jimmy led her back to the stables and helped her down. It was a saving grace, because her legs nearly gave out under her. He clucked his tongue sympathetically and told her to grab some food and take a couple of hours before he came looking for her again.

Sonny wobbled her way back to the manor on uncertain legs, her thoughts filled with the anticipation of some food and some time to catch a nap and hope that when it was time to learn again she could feel her legs. She highly doubted it, not with the way she was walking. She was so caught up in it that she didn’t see Chad as he swung his way around a lone of fencing to intercept her.

So when she ran into him it was with genuine surprise and a startled cry as she bounced off and started to fall. Before she came close to hitting the ground his arms were around her, supporting her until her uncertain legs were back under her enough for her to wrench away from him in disgust.

“Here,” was all he said as he shoved a tube at her. Sonny had no choice but to take it from him or let it drop, only habit making her fingers close around it as she read it.

“Horse liniment?” she asked, annoyed and a little offended. “Do I _look_ like an animal to you?”

He didn’t even pretend to laugh, just stared at her with serious blue eyes. “I know how you feel right now,” he started before she interrupted.

“The hell you do—”

“I had to learn once myself,” he continued, running right over her so that her eyes went wide as she opened her mouth to tell him off. “Your legs feel like rubber—if you’re lucky. This’ll help. Get some food, go take a bath in the hottest water you can stand, then rub this in. I promise you within an hour you’ll feel better. Trust me.”

“I… um. Thanks,” she replied uncertainly before he brushed past her, obviously heading back to the stables. She could only stare after him, the angry retort she’d nearly tossed at him still on the tip of her tongue.

But he was right. After a quick lunch, a scorching bath, and an hour with liniment sinking into her thighs, Sonny felt like she might even be human again. To the point where when Jimmy decided that she could walk Blackfoot off the lead she didn’t protest. Well, out loud, because she was protesting on the inside.

“Take her into the pasture there, that field, and just walk for a while,” Jimmy told her as he wiped his brow. “You have to try not to be afraid. I promise you, you’ll be fine. She’s a sweetheart.”

“Right, a sweetheart that could toss me off with a shrug,” Sonny muttered as she was abandoned to walk the horse around. Not her idea of fun, but she didn’t have a choice.

However, it wasn’t all as bad as she expected, at least for the first hour. Sonny expected that was mostly because she wasn’t telling the horse were to go. Or maybe because the horse wasn’t listening. Jimmy had told her to pull gently on either side to go left or right, it just didn’t seem to be working. She let it go on for another half hour before she started getting really annoyed. She didn’t think she could dismount without help; Jimmy catching her was probably going to be a necessity again considering that her thighs were burning now, despite the liniment Chad had given her.

“Dammit, go left. Stupid horse,” she told it as she pulled again, afraid to pull the reins to hard and make the horse decide she was better off without Sonny aboard. But desperation was beginning to grip her because Jimmy hadn’t made an appearance again yet.

“She’s doing what you’re telling her, sunshine,” was Chad’s calm voice from behind her.

Sonny’s head whipped around to see him coming up alongside her, easily sitting atop the taller grey horse he’d been riding this morning. “I’m pulling the rein left. How do you get she’s doing what I’m telling her?”

“It’s in the legs,” he said as he glanced down the line of her body. Blackfoot shifted away from him and Sonny stiffened at the sudden movement. “Relax, Sonny. You’ll be fine. Loosen your legs; the reins aren’t the only way to signal a horse what do to. Your legs are trying to wrap around her and you’re confusing her with too many orders.”

She frowned. Had Jimmy said something about that? It was hard to remember with everything she’d been told. She’d had an easier time memorizing last minute skits than memorizing Jimmy’s many instructions. She loosened her legs, though, and frowned as the mare suddenly turned her head and walked left the way that Sonny was directing her with the reins.

“See? Easy.”

She snorted at him and pulled back on both reins to stop the horse. Blackfoot stopped and Sonny sighed. She didn’t want to have any more reasons to be grateful to Chad.

“Let me help you out, Sonny,” Chad said to her, one hand twitching and the tall grey horse coming closer. She made the mistake of glancing up and his reassuring smile hurt. “We’ll have you trotting in no time.”

It made the anger flash back, welling up inside of her in a heartbeat. After everything that had happened it galled her that he was sitting on that horse acting like he had any business talking to her. Knowing Chad, it was all part of some elaborate ruse to convince her that he was innocent. Her breath hitched; it hurt so badly. She _wanted_ him to be innocent.

But the fear was still there that by morning this reaching out, this helpfulness of his, would be plastered all over every gossip magazine that she’d refused to talk to. She closed her eyes for a moment, hands going slack on the reins as her mouth twisted into a frown. When she opened them again the pain was tamped down, settled with the hard knowledge that she wouldn’t let this happen.

She glared at him, tossing her hair out of her face and back over her shoulder as she pursed her lips. “I don’t want your help,” she spat at him with more vehemence than she’d expected, but Sonny didn’t let it give her so much as a pause.

He flinched back but his eyes never strayed. “I just want to help.”

 “We’re not in front of the cameras now, Chad. I see no reason why I should even pretend to like you.”

Her eyes slipped away from his, not wanting to see the stricken look he was giving her as he reined the leggy grey horse to a standstill. By now Sonny had pressed her heels to Blackfoot’s sides and the mare was moving forward easily, already turning as Sonny directed her back to the stables. She heard a muffled curse behind her and refused to look back until the thunder of hooves startled her.

She swiveled in the saddle, one hand bracing herself against the mare’s rump, just in time to see Chad, his tall grey horse stretched out beneath him, at a full gallop down the considerable length of the pasture. Suddenly it felt like a hollow victory, leaving Sonny unsettled and more unhappy than before.

She didn’t wait for anyone to come or ask for any help, jut slid off of Blackfoot, her legs helplessly boneless, leaning on the horse until she thought she could walk again without falling over. Then she led the horse in and turned her over to someone who looked like her knew better than her what to do.

She gave the pasture a glance as she went back up to the house, but Chad was nowhere to be seen. With a wordless huff she slammed the door behind her. She was fine, she was doing perfectly well. She didn’t need his help. She didn’t need him.

 

Everyone had brought at least once nice set of clothes so the first sit down dinner was a serious affair. Serious as in how it appeared, but with twenty people talking over everyone else it was rather more of a riot that only seemed to escalate as dessert was brought out. Sonny kept laughing every time one of the staff addressed Jimmy as ‘my lord’ or anything similar, and by the time she was halfway through her berry tart Owen was already prying that answer out of their colleague.

“So let me make sure I understand this,” Owen was saying, hands out shushing everyone else who curiously turned to Owen and Jimmy. “Your father is an earl?”

Jimmy turned red and poked his fork into his own tart as Sonny bit back a laugh.

“And you’re in line for the throne? Of England?”

“Seventy-ninth!” Jimmy exclaimed. “And that’s too close for comfort for me.”

Down the table Caroline, the girl who’d been doing makeup for them, tossed a laugh out. “Well then technically, we’ve had an heir to the throne working on the film. What do you think will be said when your name goes by on the cinema screen?” she asked with a thoughtful look.

“Do you think the queen might give us medals or something? Maybe knight Owen or Cooper?” someone else chimed in. Sonny stifled her own set of laughs at that.

Jimmy’s response was good natured though mocking. “Sure, and she might make Allison a duchess while she’s at it.” He chuckled as he took a bite of his tart. “I doubt Her Majesty is going to know that a distant heir even worked on this film; I don’t use the family name. I use my mother’s maiden name.”

“Jimmy Sancy just doesn’t have the same ring to it as Jimmy Harcourt,” Owen said, pointing a finger at him.

The conversation continued as loud and rapacious as it had been before as they began dissecting Jimmy’s last name, but Sonny’s attention had been stolen by her vibrating butt cheek. Nice clothes or not, she wasn’t letting her cell phone stay too far away. She’d already put in an emergency call to Tawni after leaving Chad and the stables and she fully expected she might need another.

However, she realized as she pulled her cell out of her pocket, shifting just a moment to be about it discretely, she was going to have to take this call elsewhere. She answered it, only saying closely at the mouthpiece, “Hang on a sec,” and then excused herself from the table with a wince and a bit lip for the way her lower back and legs felt.

She was going to use some more of Chad’s liniment, that was for damn sure. She’d be lucky if she didn’t use the whole tube at this rate—though Jimmy might know where she could find some. Or she could always take herself out to one of the small grocers in the area find it herself.

Once she was free of the dining room she gave the phone a chirpy, “What’s up, Nico?”

“And me,” Grady chimed in so that Sonny nearly slipped on the first step of the stairs.

“So Nico _and_ Grady,” she said, apprehension settling like a stone in the pit of her stomach. “And you’re both calling me why?” It was a valid question; a three-way call to England was expensive and neither of her friends were as able as Tawni. And Zora, Sonny amended, because Zora was doing really well, too.

“You’re all over TMZ,” Nico told her.

“And _Entertainment Tonight_ ,” Grady added.

Nico cleared his throat and Sonny paused as she reached the top of the stairs and the long half where her room was. “They have pictures.”

“And medical reports.” She wasn’t sure but she thought Grady was chewing on his nails.

It was self-defense to think that way, to focus in on her friends and give her brain a moment to digest what they’d just told her. She should have known that it was coming; anything that was learned here in England would make it back to the States and Hollywood almost as fast as it was unearthed. Which meant… She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall dizzy with the realization.

It meant that everything, absolutely everything that had happened, was being plastered across the gossip mills.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” the asked nearly at the same time, and Sonny pressed the heel of her free hand to her eyes, wishing that the headache she could feel building would just disappear altogether.

“It wasn’t important,” she finally said.

“We’re your friends,” Grady burst out, followed quickly by Nico exclaiming, “You almost died!”

She flinched back from the phone. “Guys, it’s not that. I promise,” she worked in attempting to mollify them for a moment. “By the time I was talking to you again… It just didn’t matter. It was over, done with. I didn’t want to think about it anymore.”

“Because of your parents?” was the hesitant question.

“Some, yeah,” she told Grady. “But some because of me. Why did I live and they die? It was a really bad time and I avoided it like crazy.”

“You could have talked to use,” was Nico’s firm ascertain. “We’re your friends first, cast mates second. We could have tried to help you.”

“I had an overqualified shrink for that,” Sonny joked a little, recalling some of the man.

“Worse,” Grady said in an aside to Nico, “she had Tawni.”

“How’d you know?” Sonny demanded.

“She’s there now, isn’t she?” Grady told her smugly.

Nico chuckled. “I’m amazed you kept this from us for so long.”

Sonny stared at the phone for a moment before starting back to her room, the ill feeling mostly past now that her friends were teasing her. Honestly? She was amazed she kept it from them, too, a thing she thought was because she’d stayed in Wisconsin after the accident and not gone back to California. She told them so, laughing as they preened at their so-called intuitive powers. But once she was to her room, shoes off and legs aching as she tried to cross her legs on her bed, the expected question came.

“So what happened?”

She glanced at her laptop on the nightstand and then mentally put aside the need to go searching for what the world was learning about her past. This was more important. She winced as she laid back, and she told them.


	16. Chapter 16

Watching her in the saddle made Chad want to cringe. He actually had several times so far, but most of the time he was busy thanking god that these were just dry runs and that no cameras were filming, not even for bloopers. Sonny was already having enough problems—she didn’t need to worry about this being broadcast across the internet. Or worse: actually making the cut for the bloopers reel.

Because, Chad knew, it wasn’t funny. Half the morning had already been lost trying to get Sonny more comfortable in the saddle and, as much as he wanted to help, Chad knew that it was safer staying far, far away from her during the worst of it. The one time he’d tried to help she’d nearly snapped his head off.

He settled for keeping her in sight. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“You’ve got to try and relax,” Jimmy was telling her as Chad paced his tall gelding on the other side of the clearing they were using. “You’re nervy and anxious, luv, and all it’s doing is making this fine girl here more antsy herself. They’re creatures of emotion—if _you_ are unhappy then _they_ are, too.”

He strained to hear her soft response, but try as he might Chad simply couldn’t. He had to admit, it was just short of miraculous that she could even talk. Her jaw was clenched so tightly he was surprised she hadn’t broken a tooth yet. When Jimmy answered her, just as low voiced as she, Chad thought his own might break under the tension he suddenly felt.

He did _not_ like seeing her cozy with other men. Jimmy, Chad knew, was trying to help her out with the riding. There was no filament of desire stringing crazily between them. And, the most important thing, Jimmy was seeing someone else (if what Chad heard on set this morning was at all true). But logic could hardly override the way he reacted to seeing her head bent next his as she tried to calmly sit her horse.

“Careful, Coop.” Chad didn’t even flinch at Owen’s quiet tone of warning. Instead, he growled a little. It seemed Owen was wise enough to not pursue the warning, and Chad’s head spun a little as he redirected the conversation in a pointedly effortless manner. “Do you think we can do this? She’s not... Ah, hell. Coop, she’s not improving at all.”

Chad shrugged a little, glancing at his friend and director. “I have my suspicions about it, but it’s nothing that’s going to help us out. If I’m right, she needs years of therapy. Or maybe just a crash course,” he mused, wondering if her apparent fear of horses could simply be overcome by being around them.

Owen frowned a little, tension lines forming around his apple green eyes. “We’re running short on time. We have to get the shots this afternoon. Jimmy’s family is being fantastic to let us do this, but I daren’t overstay our welcome.”

Chad chewed on his lip, fingers clenching on the leather of the reins until it creaked in his grip. He finally sighed. “I know she can do it,” he replied with conviction. Now it was Chad’s turn to frown. “It’s just a matter of getting Sonny to realize that she can.”

Owen snorted. “Right, and who’s going to tell Allison that? You?” He laughed at Chad’s suddenly panicked look. “No, no,” he said, hands declaiming what he’d just said. “She’d kill you, I know. No worries, mate. I won’t ask that much of you.”

“How kind of you,” Chad snarked back, trying not to smile through his frown. As he watched Sonny for a moment longer he could only shake his head. “You know, I never had this kind of problem with it.”

Owen snorted a laugh. “Duck to water, then, yeah? Not surprised, you land on your feet more often than not.”

Chad shrugged. He couldn’t deny it; his life was full of lucky breaks. CDC or not, there was no way he could have done it without luck. And talent, of course. But more luck than talent in the beginning. “Maybe it’ll rub off. Do you think we could find a horse with shorter legs?” Chad asked, curious. The mare Sonny was on wasn’t exactly a paragon of tallness, but every little bit could help. “I think maybe getting Sonny closer to the ground could help.”

Owen just shot him a withering look and sauntered off back to his cameras and crew. He didn’t even spare a look towards the stable and the possibility of a smaller horse.

He hated admitting that the whole shoot was turning into a mess. As much as Chad believed in Sonny it was worthless if she couldn’t herself. Making her angry wasn’t going to help this time, either, because that was part of the problem. Yes, Sonny was most likely terrified of her mount, but part of the tension she was consistently communicating to the mare was because of Chad himself and the inevitable moment it came where they would be together again in front of the camera.

At least it was mostly for a fight—Chad imagined that if they had to be affectionate or even kiss then there would be bloodshed. Possibly death or dismemberment on his part.

And his other method was definitely out. He could hardly play at the hesitant seduction now. If she even _let_ him make a single move, she’d hit him shortly after. Or communicate her irritation and anger to the mare even more and accidentally run him and the gray gelding he rode down.

With a sigh he headed back to the side of the pasture where Owen and the crew were getting ready, reigning the horse to an easy stop before swinging his leg over and sliding down the horse’s left side. “That’s a good boy, Dom,” he told the gelding as he fished a slice of apple from his pocket and held it out. The gelding lipped his hand before taking the fruit and crunching it while following Chad as he led the way to Owen.

“I’m going to make myself scarce,” he told the other man as he absently patted the gray’s neck. “If I’m not around she might be a little more relaxed. I’ll have my phone, just give me a ring when we’re ready.”

Owen sighed and nodded. “It won’t be long; we have to have the time for multiple takes because I don’t see this happening in a single go.”

Chad grinned faintly at the pitiful admission before heading over to one of the grooms waiting around and depositing the reins in readily waiting hands. He headed up the riding trail to the stable to wait it out, stretching his legs as he went. It was a short walk, considering how large the Sancy estate was. The proximity had been one of the reasons the particular clearing they were using was chosen. Rain in England was more normal than dry and if something blew up the less distance between the equipment and horses and the safety of a roof, the better. And, thank god, there was coffee in the tack room just waiting for him to happily guzzle it down.

Once he was ensconced in the tack room with coffee and a comfortable seat leaning against the wall, Chad half wished he felt like making the trek back to the house for a book. As much as he enjoyed the horses and the stable, he didn’t fancy sitting around doing nothing for the next hour or so. Maybe a nap, he thought as he eyeballed the discreet cot in the back of the room. It was half hidden behind a row of saddle trees, and Chad doubted anyone would care if he grabbed a few.

It was good enough reasoning in Chad’s mind, and he finished his cup before crushing the flimsy paper and tossing it into the trash. The cot was less than comfortable, but someone (probably one of the grooms) had gotten a pad on it and laid a blanket across that to help with the taut hardness of it. With a sigh Chad lay back and closed his eye, dropping an arm across his face to block the light.

After a moment he shifted and pulled his phone out to check that it was charged and to full volume, then he dropped it on his stomach before covering his eyes again and trying to drift off. He was nearly asleep, at best in a half doze, when the peace was killed by the giggling entrance of a couple of the women on the shoot. Jennifer from costumes and—was her name Anne? Anna? It started with an A, Chad was pretty sure she was helping Jennifer out. Or maybe she was helping Jake out with sound. Didn’t matter either way, he thought sourly as their voices brought him out of the almost sleeping state he’d tried so hard to attain.

“…can’t believe he just left,” the A-girl was saying. It took him a moment to realize that they were talking about him, and Chad bit his tongue to stop the sharp comment he half wanted to throw out. They didn’t know he was here, and it would probably get more interesting if he just listened.

Jennifer, Chad guessed, was pouring the coffee as she replied. “I know. They’re hardly talking anymore.”

“I heard that he dumped her after the whole thing with the newspapers.”

“I’m pretty sure she dumped him,” Jennifer said authoritatively. “Owen talked to me about it right after it happened when he was trying to find a place for her to stay.”

The A-girl tittered enviously. “I almost wish Owen was my cousin so I could find all the good stuff out. But she’s staying in his flat, isn’t she?”

The voice started to fade as footsteps made their way away from Chad and the tack room, coffee obviously the only thing the women had come to get. “Yeah, she is. I just don’t understand why they’re suddenly fighting and split up. If I had known this was going to happen I wouldn’t have talked to the guy from _Now_.”

The desperate pain that had filled him as he listened to them so casually discuss the demise of his relationship with Sonny was suddenly overwhelmed by a violent red need to chase Jennifer down. He didn’t even realize he was on his feet until the sound of his phone hitting the wooden floor penetrated the cloud of rage that had fallen across him. It startled him for a moment—in his entire life Chad had never had the urge to harm a woman. A few guys, yeah, and he’d been in his share of fights.

But never a woman. Not till now. Right now, Chad could happily strangle Jennifer.

He stooped to pick his cell up, not even checking to see if it was in working order. It wouldn’t matter anyway. Owen was about to see him; if the shoot was going to start Chad would be right there to be told. Though, if Chad had anything to do with it, the shoot wouldn’t start until after Owen’s cousin had been booted from the set, the shoot, the country, fuck! The entire goddamned world.

It was fortunate that Jennifer and her friend were nowhere to be seen as Chad stalked back to the clearing, his face like thunder, hands clenched and ready to do real harm.

It was more fortunate that when Chad got to the clearing Sonny and Jimmy were on the far side of it and Owen was in his direct path. If it had been the other way around Chad wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t say anything to Sonny, that he wouldn’t ruin the shoot for the sake of fixing the mess and convincing Sonny that he hadn’t used her, that he loved her, that he—

“I didn’t call you yet, Coop,” Owen said, hailing him with a friendly smile. “But you’re right on time, we’re almost… ready… Chad, what’s the matter?”

Sheer gratitude flooded Chad. The change from murderous anger left him a little lightheaded, but Chad shook his head for a moment. He realized then that his hands were still clenched, fingers curled into vicious clawed shapes. He loosed his fists, taking a deep breath, rubbed his hands across his eyes, not caring if he was messing up the careful makeup that was supposed to cover the circles he’d been sporting since Sonny had left him.

“Owen,” he croaked, his voice cracking. Chad swallowed to clear his throat, a painful burning ache remained. “Owen,” he said again, “I found out who did it.”

The stream of cursing that spewed from Owen was even more gratifying than his best friend’s immediate understanding that something was terribly, horribly wrong. In mid-curse Owen stopped and turned to Chad, eyes furious. “So it was someone from the shoot. Fuck, Coop, who was it?” he demanded.

For a split-second Chad almost didn’t want to say who it was. Jennifer was important to the shoot—and she was Owen’s cousin, his family. But what she did… No, to Chad, it was unforgiveable. Not when it cost him the woman he loved.

“Jennifer,” he answered hoarsely. “I heard her talking to one of the other girls just now. She talked to someone from _Now_.”

Owen’s face went dead white and Chad closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see it. He didn’t blame Owen and surely the other man would know that once the initial burst of betrayal finished. But Chad didn’t want to face the momentary recrimination he expected, even if he knew it wouldn’t last.

The immediate apology rocked him.

“Fuck, Chad, I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” Chad managed. “You didn’t do this!”

“I let her on the shoot. Makes her my responsibility,” Owen insisted. Chad shook his head and stopped Owen immediately.

“No, she made her own choice.” The anger was still there, but it was less now. Something akin to the sharing of sorrows, Chad thought. Owen could help him with this, and maybe it would be alright in the end. Even if there was a part of Chad that still wanted to throttle the stupid girl within an inch of her life. Or past it.

Owen grunted, frowning as he stared across the clearing to Sonny and Jimmy. “Alright, we can deal with this. Are you going to be able to shoot?”

For a moment Chad hesitated. He was a good actor; he knew it and had a certain amount of conceit in that knowledge. But could he still pull the scene off while discretely entertaining mild thoughts of homicide? Could he manage it in the face of what he’d just learned, with Sonny and her baleful eyes right in front of him?

A bitter laugh threatened to rise and Chad sighed to try and hide it. “Do we have a choice?” he asked honestly. They had to get the film this afternoon, now. Otherwise they’d lose an important part of the script. They could rewrite, maybe, but not to assuage Chad’s ego, to cater to his broken heart.

“Let’s just do this,” he finally said. Either he and Sonny were good enough to pull it off, or they didn’t deserve to be in the movie.

 

“Just… try to relax,” Chad muttered to her as Owen set the cameras for a third go.

Sonny frowned. Half of her wanted to just admit to him how scared she was, of the horse and of failing to pull the scene off. The other half kind of wanted to pull her boot off and chuck it at his head as hard as she could. Neither would be helpful though, so Sonny sat atop the mare woodenly, trying to force the tense lines of her body into something a little closer to carefree.

Owen gestured to them from behind the camera and Sonny bit back a sigh. “Let’s try it again, from the top. This time, let’s get some real emotion going, yeah?”

A hard smile creased Sonny’s face, but she twitched the reins and brought herself alongside Chad and his tall gray mount. “Let’s just get this over with,” she said after a bracing breath.

When Owen called action she did her best to let the Erin character take over. It was hard—so very hard. She was too tense, and Chad was too. Even when he was trying to help her out it felt angry and almost violent, which made Sonny want to simply react instead of sticking to the script. Hell, just last take he’d had the sheer nerve to reach over and grab her horse’s reins when he thought Sonny was losing control.

Well, she wasn’t. She could do this. She didn’t need to Chad to do a goddamned thing for her.

“Don’t deny it, Colin,” she started the scene, letting the anger, the tension, everything she was and had been feeling seep into her voice. It felt more cruel than she thought Erin would be. Erin was hurt, angry, but she didn’t have the hard edge that Sonny had now.

Chad flinched a little, but Sonny ignored it since he went into his first line, Colin’s attempt to placate Erin.

The wheedling tone of his voice made her frown, and Sonny had to school her face away from the expression as she tried to answer like she was supposed to. “Just shut up. _I saw you,_ ” she cried. Blackfoot shifted beneath her and for a moment Sonny thought Chad was reaching out to stop the mare, but he didn’t. it took a moment’s concentration to bring the mare back to the gray’s side. Sonny nearly sighed, knowing that the scene was ruined and they’d have to start again. Three lines in and she’d already blown it.

She could see Owen’s shoulders drooping a bit, and even as Sonny knew Owen was going to call cut Chad muttered, “Relax,” at her. She shook her head, the anger just boiling over.

“Stop treating me like this,” she demanded. The mare sidled again but Sonny paid no attention, her hands automatically pulling on the reins as her fear was forgotten for the moment. “You don’t get to do what you did and then just act like there’s nothing wrong, like you _did_ nothing wrong!”

“I never said I didn’t do anything wrong! I just didn’t do what you think,” he denied hotly, blue eyes hard as he stared at her.

Now Sonny laughed, a little bitter but mostly ragged and hurt. “Just stop,” she whispered. “Stop.” Her eyes closed for a moment—she couldn’t look at him, it hurt too much, it _all_ hurt too much. The ache in her chest was a deep throbbing pain that only got worse. “Stop lying to me,” she whispered brokenly. “It hurts too much.”

“I’m sorry,” Chad breathed. When she opened her eyes, she looked at him; his eyes were dark and his face pale and drawn.

“I’ll bet you are,” Sonny shot back at him, venom in her voice. “Sorry you got caught, sorry I had the sense to call you on it when I finally saw through your petty little schemes.” Her mare shifted under her again, taking the unconscious cue of Sonny’s knees tightening at her withers. The fear raged back and it took Sonny a moment to still the horse before she looked back up at Chad again. “I trusted you. I _loved_ you. And then I find out I’m your Friday night girl.”

Her face crumpled then, the tears she’d been holding back coming in hot, harsh trails down her cheeks. “What did I do to deserve it?”

Chad’s breath escaped him in a short, sharp exhale, as if it pained him to do so, hurt him to hear her say it. Sonny couldn’t believe that; half of her thought he’d planned this humiliation since _Mackenzie Falls_ and _So Random_. The other half was sure that he’d just taken advantage of a chance too good to pass up. Either way it meant that she’d fallen in love with a man who she couldn’t have, a man she shouldn’t have. Hell, the Chad Cooper she was in love with couldn’t possibly exist. He was still Chad _Dylan_ Cooper after all.

He licked his lips, his hands tugging his own horse’s reins and his right knee cuing the tall animal to shift closer to her. The gelding did taking several steps until he was close enough that Sonny could see that Chad’s jaw was clenched tight, his eyes shining. “It wasn’t like that. I swear it wasn’t, it’s not what you think. I promise.”

“Can you explain?” Her voice could have frozen fire.

He opened his mouth and then closed it, and Sonny bit back a sudden sob. “That’s what I thought.” She tore her eyes from his and pulled on the mare’s reins, turning the horse away from him. She hadn’t gone more than two steps before something bright and red burst out of the undergrowth.

“No, wait,” she heard Chad’s cry from just behind her, and then the mare was rearing. No matter that she’d had the most epic crash course in horseback riding in the history of her life, Sonny wasn’t ready for the reality of a spooked animal that weighed half a ton, nor was she prepared for the fact that her legs felt like jello on the saddle, the legacy of spending two days in the saddle when never having ridden before.

She slipped, the reins dropping as she grabbed frantically for the dark mane. Her fingers caught the coarse horse hair for a moment, clinging tightly enough that she thought it would cut into her skin, but a moment was all Sonny had before it slipped through her fingers, a few tearing off in thinned hanks of dark hair as Sonny kept falling backward. Finally, she screamed just as she was tilting back into space, the mare drawing herself down and gathering powerful hindquarters to shoot off at a gallop.

Then the horse was gone, nothing but air beneath her and Sonny was hitting the ground. Her breath was driven from her lungs in a painfully hard blow. Then Sonny’s head hit the ground and she didn’t know anything else anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

Chad had never been so afraid in his entire life, not even for the short time he had once feared her dead with his cruel words the last thing he’d ever said to her. Seeing Sonny lying there on the ground, blood matting itself in the dark hair at the side of her head—his heart had surely stopped for a moment. He’d reached her first, but no amount of pleading had made her open her eyes, not even when the medics had arrived to airlift her to the hospital.

The drive to the hospital in Aberystwyth had taken too long. No one had trusted Chad behind the wheel and his enforced idleness had left him too much time to envision every possible scenario he might find when he got there.

Naturally, none of them included the droves of press that beat him there to hound him on his way in.

If it hadn’t been for Jimmy Chad wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t have taken out some of his fear on the faceless reporters. It was their good fortune that Jimmy managed to rush him into the emergency area with as little contact as possible. Owen, who had gone in the helicopter with Sonny, had obviously already managed to get them barred from the hospital itself, if not the grounds of Bronglais General.

His efficiency should have been comforting. Instead Chad could only wait in fear for someone to come tell them—him—if Sonny was alright.

“They’re getting an MRI right now,” Owen said to him as he slumped into the empty seat next to Chad, pressing a hot cup of hospital tea into his hands.

Chad took it and stared into the murky amber blindly. “Has she woken up? Anything at all?”

Owen rubbed a hand across his face before shaking his head. “No. I’m sorry, mate.”

The cup trembled in Chad’s hand for a moment, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the edges before Owen shifted and reached out, taking the tea from Chad and sliding it under the chair to safety. “We have to be positive, Chad,” he started, his own voice unsteady. “She’s strong, yeah? She’ll make it through this with flying colors. Hell, she’ll probably be perked up by the time they come to get us. This is _Sonny Monroe_ we’re talking about.”

Chad tried to chuckle at Owen’s efforts, but it came out more as a strangled sob. “I can’t lose her, Owen. Not now, not like this.”

“You won’t,” Owen tried, but Chad could hear the uncertainty in his best friend’s voice.

It seemed like hours later when someone finally came and called for Owen. Chad was on his feet before Owen had even finished straitening in his seat, but both men were quick to meet the doctor with Sonny’s fate in his hands. His grave face did nothing to reassure Chad, who found himself suddenly shivering, a dull tremble along his body as fear once more came on so strong that he was nearly sick.

“Is she…” Chad’s question trailed off as he realized he didn’t want the answer. If it were affirmative that would be good, but the possibility that she wasn’t fine loomed over him.

The doctor’s eyes slid over Chad, but the subtle way that he turned to Owen felt like a slap in the face. Fucking paparazzi, not even the damned doctor wanted to talk to him, to answer his almost question. He had the— No, he didn’t. It hurt to admit it to himself, but Chad had no right to know how Sonny was. Just a burning, desperate need.

“Miss Monroe’s next of kin has been notified,” the doctor was saying to Owen while Chad listened fervently. “But as her employer I’m authorized to speak with you, Mr. Reynolds.”

Again, the rebuff stung, but Owen frowned at the doctor. “Mr. Cooper is my colleague and business partner, sir. As such he is also, nominally, Miss Monroe’s employer, and entitled to any knowledge you impart to me.” The frost in Owen’s voice was evident and Chad would have smiled gratefully if he weren’t so worried.

The doctor frowned a little but let the argument go. “Miss Monroe hasn’t regained consciousness,” the doctor admitted quietly. “We’ve done some testing and the MRI was conclusive to a slight depressed skull fracture. There has been some bleeding to her brain, exacerbating the mild bruising.”

Chad felt completely numb as he tried to digest the news, and once he had desperation welled in him, hoping that he hadn’t understood what they had just been told. “In English?” he asked, half wild.

The doctor shook his head, sympathy finally lighting in his eyes. “As she’s not responding to any external stimuli, we can only conclude that she’s slipped into a coma. There’s no reason why she shouldn’t wake, given time, but for now we can only wait.”

Chad stood there for a moment, half pretending that he hadn’t heard what was just said. But in the end, there was no way to un-hear it. he turned away and stumbled blindly for any escape.

 

“It’s not good news,” Owen imparted quietly to the rest of the small cast and crew where they huddled in a private waiting room down the hall from where Sonny was currently laying, oblivious to the rest of the world as it passed her by.

He didn’t want to say it, but there was no way to avoid the truth. “Ah, she’s got a cracked skull. She’s in a coma.”

The dour atmosphere thickened the silence painfully, a few of the girls crying quietly. Jimmy was even teary eyed, but Owen imagined the boy was probably trying to blame himself for the accident. It wasn’t his fault and Owen would reassure him on that later. No one could have predicted the sudden argument between Sonny and Chad before the scene had cut, and the sudden appearance of the fox that spooked Sonny’s mount was just terrible bad luck. There was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it, short of shooting the creature before it made it out of the brush.

“Will she be okay?” someone asked.

Owen shrugged blindly, not even trying to meet anyone’s eyes. “Dunno,” he answered. “We have to wait and see. If anyone’s inclined, there’s a chapel on the first floor.”

A handful of people quietly exited, presumably to appeal to god. Owen just sat there trying to figure out what to do next. He knew that Allison's next of kin was Tawni Hart, that particular woman was flying in even now. And Chad was nowhere to be found. Owen had tried to stop him from leaving, but he hadn’t been quick enough to absorb what had happened or Chad’s sudden flight. He was fairly sure that Chad wouldn’t do anything truly foolish, but it was a cold comfort considering all the rest.

It was almost surreal how such a small thing had spiraled so far out of control. Part of Owen couldn’t help but wonder if this would have happened if Jennifer had kept her mouth shut. There would have been no fight that drove an iron spike between his two stars, there would have been no added stress to Allison's obvious fear of horses, there would have been no fight when that damned animal had darted through the clearing and spooked the horses. He knew logically that if Jimmy shouldn’t blame himself, then Owen shouldn’t blame himself either. By the logic his brain was currently using the hiring of Jennifer was somehow Chad’s fault as well, except that it wasn’t.

The truth was, no matter how hard it was to accept, that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was just a bloody terrible accident. That was it, pure logic. Now just to convince everyone else, especially Jimmy and Chad, and including himself.

He excused himself quietly from the waiting room, not daring to look up for fear of meeting Jennifer’s eyes. If he did Owen wasn’t sure that he could keep himself from saying anything to her, and that wouldn’t be helpful right now. He could only imagine was Coop would say or do if he ran into the girl. But there wasn’t much Owen could do to help that right now, seeing as he didn’t know where the other man was. He could only hope he was at ground zero to help control the fallout.

It was a short, quiet walk down the hall and past nurse’s station to Allison’s room. The door was closed to just a crack and the lights were low. He could hear the steady sound of her pulse via the machinery monitoring it. It was a steady rhythm, a reassurance of its own.

Owen stopped, sighing as he turned and pressed his forehead to the wall. This was so terrible. It felt even worse because he genuinely _liked_ the girl. If it weren’t for Coop and the way he felt—and the way she obviously felt about him—Owen would have been more than happy to make a go of it.

It wouldn’t have worked. It would never have worked.

There was nothing that would change the way Allison Monroe felt about Chad Cooper. All it would have taken was five second bickering with him again and there would be no stopping the inevitable. Knowing that made it a little easier to give up the infatuation he’d fallen to when he met her.

It hadn’t stopped the desperate fearful sickness he’d felt in the A&E while they were waiting for answers. In fact, the only thing that had kept him steady was the fact that Chad was so much worse off than he. Chad was in love with her; Owen had only had a little crush for a few weeks. It was nothing compared to the apparent years his best friend had been pining. Fuck, still was, because Owen could hear Chad in Allison's room even now. It felt almost voyeuristic, but Owen couldn’t stop himself from listening to the painful pleading.

“God, Sonny, you have to be okay, I just found you again—I _can’t_ lose you. I love you.”

One sentence that made it horribly obvious that if Allison didn’t wake soon, Owen would have more than he could handle on his hands.

“Who are you?” The icy American voice cut through Owen’s thoughts and had him turning before he could stop himself.

He tried smiling but failed at it miserably, even in the face of the beautiful Tawni Hart. “Owen Reynolds. I’m supposed to be the director.” It sounded odd and pitiful coming from his mouth, but Owen couldn’t really be bothered to care. “You made it here rather quickly.”

She gave him a thin smile. “I chartered a private plane. It was important.” He nodded, because it really was. The starlet hadn’t even grabbed her makeup when she’d gotten the call, not that she was any less lovely without it. The brittle façade cracked for a moment as she asked, “How is she?”

Owen bit back a groan and scrubbed his face with a hand. “I truly wish I could tell you otherwise, Miss Hart, but it’s not very good right now.”

“Tawni, please,” she began. Then looked away, but not quickly enough for Owen to miss the shine of tears in her reddened eyes. She’d been crying, a fact that made him feel even worse. So many people cared about Allison Monroe; if she didn’t pull through…

No. he refused to think about that.

“You can talk to her doctor more about it, but I can give you the basics. She has a fracture in her skull; she’s in a coma.” He paused for a moment, but finally steeled himself to finish saying his fears. “They don’t really know when she’ll wake. Or if she will.”

She started past him and then stopped as Owen brought an arm in front of her to stop her from entering the room. “Wait, Miss Hart, Tawni. Please, Coop’s in there right now.”

“Coop?” she asked, confused for a moment before understanding dawned and made her eyes narrow. “Oh, Chad.” She frowned and Owen had the distinct impression that she would have growled if she were the least bit inclined to such rarified behavior.

A shadow from the door fell across them and Owen turned to see the drawn face and reddened eyes of his best friend. “Tawni,” Chad said, his voice dull and a little strained.

“I’ll deal with you later, Chad _Dylan_ Cooper,” Tawni bit out. Owen started to speak but Chad only shook his head.

“Whenever you want,” he told the blond before slipping past them both and down the hall.

Now she did growl a little and Owen rounded on her. “He didn’t do it, if that’s what you’re thinking. Chad Cooper would never willingly hurt Allison.”

“He already has, many times.”

Owen shook his head. “The stupid git you knew may have, but _Chad Cooper_ would never.” Let her make of that what she would. “We already found out who did it, anyway. Right before.”

She only looked at him for a moment before entering the hospital room and closing the door in his face. “Fuck,” he muttered, cursing in a way that Owen rarely did.

Footsteps behind him brought him up short for the second time in a few minutes. “Who did what, Owen?”

The livid anger broke across his face before he could stop it as he turned to his currently little-loved cousin. “Jennifer,” he said in a hard voice, and stopped himself before he said any of the dozens of cruel, hateful little things running through his mind now.

She took a small step back, but Owen didn’t kill the anger on his face. She didn’t deserve that kind of courtesy. This might _never_ have happened if she hadn’t opened her mouth and told the world about things that weren’t her business.

“Owen?” she asked hesitantly.

Owen shook his head at her. “Did you even bloody read you contract before you violated the confidentiality clauses?” he demanded hotly. “I gave you this job because your mum said you were down on your luck—and then you just act the complete git, don’t you?”

“What are you talking about?” she asked, baffled.

“I’m talking about the part where you talked to a goddamned reporter about Allison and Coop’s relationship!”

“What?”

He stared at her like she was daft. Surely she must be to not understand what he was saying to her. Then again, this could be the very reason why she was down on her luck with employment. “Fuck. Just go home, Jennifer. And don’t bother coming back, you’re off the film. I’ll send you a check in the mail.”

“Owe, wait,” she insisted. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He snorted. “It’s fairly simple. You’re fired. Binned. Your job just got routed to the rubbish pile.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but he couldn’t be bothered to feel pity for her. “I don’t understand.”

“Coop heard you, you know,” he finally said in a ruthless tone. “When you told someone that you’d talked to someone from _Now_. And let me remind you that there is a fairly large bit of your contract that states bluntly you’re not to talk to the press about any-goddamn-thing in relation to the film. That includes the relationship, or lack thereof, of anyone attached to the project.”

“He…? Oh,” she said in a small voice.

“Oh,” Owen agreed implacably.

“I’m sorry. Where is he? I can apologize. I can retract my statement,” she tried desperately.

“Too little, too late. Go home, Jennifer. And I’d suggest you not talk to Coop, since I think he was recently entertaining the idea of strangling you.” Before she could say anything, Owen turned on his heel and walked away.

 

The last time they’d all been together had been the Emmy’s, when the entire cast and Marshall, too, had been flying high on their win. Tawni still had her Emmy in of honor in the living room of her apartment. She knew for a fact that Zora had hers under lock and key in her dressing room, and that Nico and Grady both had theirs in their respective kitchen cabinets. It was endearing how little they all had changed despite growing up.

Some, more than others, Tawni was willing to admit. Despite the gravity of the situation and all of their worry, Nico and Grady were still playing off of each other and trying to make everyone feel better. They’d better stop, thought, Tawni decided as she gauged how close Zora was to maiming one or both of them. Privately she expected it was be Nico, who was closest, and because it would be a bloody enough deterrent to stop Grady in his tracks.

Thank god, they were already at the hospital.

“Chad tried coming by again,” Zora said musingly, loud enough to stop the boys in the tracks.

Immediate anger flooded them and the room, a downside of testosterone. Tawni couldn’t blame them—they hadn’t had the privilege of overhearing the cute director chew out the apparent responsible party yesterday. No, there was nothing apparent about it. Despite that stupid girl’s initial confusion and denial, she’d admitted to it quickly enough under Owen Reynolds’ anger. It almost made her smile to know that Mr. Director had felt the need to warn the idiot girl off of finding Chad Cooper. If she knew anything at all about him, he might very well try and maim the culprit if she did seek him out.

Tawni had spent the last twenty-four hours amusing herself by thinking of all the ways she might be able to help him. Despite her obvious inclination to the disciplined maintenance of her own appearance—and the fact that some careful questioning placed this Jennifer in makeup and costuming—her girlhood revenges of ruining face and hair didn’t seem to feel proper. Personally, she was becoming a fast fan of drawing and quartering the girl—idea courtesy of Zora of course. Trust the youngest of them to be well versed in various methods of torture and capital punishment. If Zora wasn’t actually her friend, Tawni would probably be very, very afraid of her.

“You told him to go to hell, right?” Nico asked hotly with Grady backing him up all the way.

“Yeah, cause the only way we’re letting him see her is if he’s dead or dying.”

Tawni snorted. “It’s a private room; he wouldn’t be in there if were actually dead or dying.”

“If he was a ghost,” Zora offered with a malicious smile.

If Sonny had been awake to hear them Tawni liked to think she’d smile at the way her friends were so quick to defend her. As it was they’d all decided that surrounding her with their usual brand of entertainment might help. Zora and Grady had both asserted that coma victims could hear and eventually respond to conversation, which was why they hadn’t left her alone, any of them, since they’d all arrived.

A knock at the door made four sets of eyes dart to it. it wouldn’t be Chad, Tawni was sure, but possibly the cute Owen Reynolds. Then the door opened and a slim, dark haired girl slipped in. She was wrong on both counts, because it was Lucy returning with their late excuse for dinner. Ugh, fast food. She was going to have to spend the next month in the gym working all of these meals off.

“Any change?” Sonny’s friend from Wisconsin asked, the standard question from all mouths whenever they returned from trips beyond Sonny’s room.

Tawni shook her head. “No, though Nico and Grady want to maim Chad again.”

“That’s nothing new,” Lucy said with a small smile as she passed the bags off to Grady and took her place in the chair by Sonny’s head, one hand reaching out to hold Sonny’s too still hand.

Lucy had only arrived that afternoon, but Tawni had quickly decided she really liked the girl. A quiet but sincere thank you for the plane ticket Tawni had gotten for her had been the second thing out of her mouth. Like a true friend, the first question had been a frightened demand on Sonny’s condition.

“So what’s our new topic?” Zora asked after the initial edges of hunger (starvation on Grady and Nico’s parts) were dealt with. “I think we’ve kicked the gossip scene to death. And can we please have something that’s at least a little intelligent? Because who Joe Jonas is dating killed off at least half of my brain cells.”

Tawni smiled at that before deciding it was time to poke the proverbial elephant with a spear. “I thought we could talk about Chad.”

Silence reigned and Tawni rolled her eyes. “Oh please. Like none of you want to bash him some more. And I mean that verbally, Zora, because no one is actually going to hurt him.”

“Yet,” the younger girl muttered rebelliously.

Oh yes, she would be absolutely terrified of the girl.

“Actually, I thought since we’re all relatively relaxed I could explain that Chad didn’t actually do anything.”

The silence that had fallen before was like a rave compared to the new level of silence that now dropped.

“I mean it,” Tawni said, her tone a little offhand even if she was deadly serious. “When I got here yesterday I overheard the most interesting bitch out I’ve heard in a long time. Since at least last year when Miley Cyrus wore _my_ dress to that party.”

Now all eyes rolled barring Lucy’s, who hadn’t been around to hear Tawni spend at least a week wanting to pull out the tawdry songstress’s extensions. Among other things she wanted to do.

“Explain,” Nico insisted. Tawni smiled.

“Alright, but when I do, I want you all to promise me that the next time Chad comes to see her you let her in and vacate the room. He deserves some alone time with her.”

Nico frowned. “Why?”

“Because he’s in love with her, silly boy.”


	18. Chapter 18

Her head hurt. And her throat, and her body, and the back of heft hand. They were pains that she couldn’t begin to explain to herself as she stared up at the unfamiliar and wholly disinteresting white ceiling. She didn’t drink, which would account for the headache and the lack of knowing where, exactly, she was. But Sonny highly doubted (or as much as she could in her currently muddled state of mind) that alcohol would explain the way she felt like she’d went one on one with a sledgehammer across her body.

Hesitantly Sonny shifted her head. The initial ache burst into a blindingly sharp pain that brought tears to her eyes and made her breath catch against it.

Suddenly the white ceiling at sharp pain in her hand made sense. She was in a hospital—she could remember the feel of an IV from her only stay in one so many years before.

Fear overrode the pain as Sonny realized that she had no idea _why_ she would be in the hospital. She blinked at the sudden spate of tears in her eyes feeling them start to slip warmly down her temples as she tried not to whimper from the pain and fear and everything else she was feeling and didn’t have the energy or willpower to place a name to.

 _Just like before,_ she thought dimly. Waking up and knowing nothing. But they couldn’t tell her this time that her parents were dead. It was too late for that. It was a cold comfort as she lay there.

A steady, if somewhat rapid, beep hit her ears, and he own unsteady breathing. Beneath that was something else, a much steadier rise and fall of breath that made Sonny a little desperate to know who else was in her room. There must have been an accident—but she had no memory of getting into a car. No, the last thing she remembered was trying to shoot that damned scene with Chad. Of seeing the unhappiness and pain in his eyes. Then—nothing.

She shifted her head in minute increments, overly careful not to jostle her aching skull again. Yes, there was the IV, and the monitor she was hooked up to. The readings were fairly steady, which gave her a moments comfort. Whatever had happened, she was obviously not dying. Another tiny shift brought a chair into view, and the sleeping form of Chad Dylan Cooper as well.

She recoiled at the sight. She wanted nothing to do with him, he had no right to be here. She’d rather have Owen or Jimmy or _anyone_ than him.

The motion sent another wave of agony through her head, this time spreading down her side and making her nearly gag at the pain. She couldn’t stop the pained moan that escaped her even if she had the presence of mind to do so.

The noise had an instant reaction. Even with her eyes closed and her blood rushing in her ears she could still hear Chad startle awake, the scrape of the chair against the floor and the sound of him coming instantly to his feet.

“Sonny?” he asked softly. If she weren’t still so hurt by his betrayal it would have been comforting, the slight pressure of his hand finding hers and his fingers brushing hair from her face a relief. But she was, and it wasn’t.

“I’ll call for the nurse, they’ll bring you something for the pain.” His voice was hoarse, but she couldn’t open her eyes just yet. “Thank god you’re awake.”

She would wonder at that as soon as the pain was gone.

The response to Chad’s pushing the button was immediate and overwhelming, especially since Sonny was already miserable and more than a little confused. Two nurses were immediately on either side of the bed, one of them unceremoniously pushing Chad away. She managed to get her eyes open just a little to see the look of dismay and resignation on his face as he retreated to stand by his chair. The sight of Tawni and Zora coming in to stand beside him was more gratifying, and more frightening.

Tawni had already been in England, but for Zora to be here whatever happened must have been less than stellar. It made her feel just a little more sick than she already felt, if it was even possible for that to happen. The nurse’s questions made it even worse.

As the one at her IV inserted a needle into the IV port the other peered closely at her eyes, a gentle look on her face as she asked, “Miss Monroe, how are you feeling?”

She wanted to answer, but she was afraid that if she opened her mouth she’d be sick.

The nurse seemed to take her lack of response in stride, straightening and asking one more question. “Do you know what today is?”

The heat rose in the back of her throat and Sonny managed an ill noise. With swift disregard for the way moving her would make her feel both nurses had her rolled to her side, a pan already there when she vomited. It hurt from the soles of her feet to the top of her head as she heaved, though nothing but clear bile came out. The pain brought more tears to her eyes even as the act of throwing up had already flooded them.

“It’s alright, Alison. The morphine will kick in soon, your doctor will be here shortly,” they soothed her as they straightened her back out, one offering her a straw and cool water, the other producing a dampened cloth and wiping her face carefully.

“I don’t—What happened?” she croaked. She was still feeling too ill to care that she sounded little better than death warmed over.

The straw was brought closer and Sonny accepted it willingly, taking a mouthful to swish and spit, rinsing the foul taste from her mouth as directed. It was given her again and this time Sonny took a hesitant sip, half afraid that the water would come right back up. Thankfully it only seemed to help soothe her stomach.

“Poor child,” the woman with the cloth murmured. She was old enough to be Sonny’s mother; the thought was almost comforting. “The doctor will answer your questions, Miss Monroe. Are you feeling any better just now?”

She almost shook her head, but reminded herself just in time what sudden movement could do to her. “Not really. I hurt. Everywhere. My head…”

“The medicine will probably take a few minutes longer.” A new cloth was laid across her head and Sonny closed her eyes.

The arrival of the doctor was a mixed blessing. She could still see Chad standing in the far corner whenever she managed to open her eyes, but those moments were few and far between because the light made her head ache worse. The morphine helped though, a lot. The fact that she still felt sick to her stomach from the pain was daunting, but Sonny tried to focus on the thought of how much worse it would be without the drugs. Especially with the questions.

“Do you remember anything of the accident, Miss Monroe,” were the doctor’s first words once he’d shined his little light in her eyes.

She wanted to shake her head, feeling like saying it out loud gave more credence to her lack of memory than if she stayed silent. But shaking her head was opening up a very painful can of worms, and Sonny didn’t care to tempt fate. “No. I remember being on the horse. Jimmy was coaching me?” The last came out more as a question, she absolutely wasn’t sure of it.

She opened her eyes again in time to see the doctor glance to Chad made her angry. It was irrational. Sonny knew that logically. But it irritated her more than a little that he was the one to confirm her last rational memory.

He gave a slight nod, which was of little comfort. “Right before she was getting some last-minute help. Then we were shooting and we were arguing and the fox spooked the horse. She’s not a good enough rider to avoid the fall. I don’t even think I am,” he offered quietly.

The doctor hmm’d under his breath and picked up the chart he’d laid at the foot of her bed for a moment. “It’s likely that you’ll never remember the accident itself,” he began, but the doctor stopped short as the door opened and three more people joined them.

If she’d felt even close to being able to smile, Sonny would have. Owen was the first through the door, but Sonny thought it was probably because he was holding the door for Tawni, who swept in like the movie star she was. Closely behind her came Grady’s familiar face, all three of them wearing wide smiles. Obviously, the news of her waking had passed through whoever was here at the hospital. And if Grady was that probably meant that Nico was already there or not far behind. Maybe even Zora.

Tawni made a beeline for the foot of the bed, not caring to try and force her way around the doctor and two nurses still at the bedside. She should probably be grateful for that, because Sonny still felt like she’d be sick again and Sonny couldn’t picture Tawni, good friend that she was, holding a bucket for her to vomit into.

She tried for a weak smile, though, and managed it for a moment before abandoning the pretense.

“You do look improved Miss Monroe,” the doctor said as he laid the chart down again. “When you fell, you hit your head hard enough to fracture the skull.” He must have seen the sudden alarm on her face because he hurried to continue. “You’ll recover completely, my word on that. There was some minor work to realign the bone level and relieve the pressure on your brain; that’s what’s likely responsible for the memory loss. It’s doubtful you’ll ever remember the accident itself.”

“What!?”

Sonny startled at the exclamation then whimpered as her head burst into rays of pain. She was only peripherally aware of Tawni and Grady grabbing Chad and dragging him from the room. She didn’t care—it was impossible to care through the nimbus of agony surrounding her skull. Again, she was rolled and again she found herself heaving up the nonexistent contents of her stomach.

She was vaguely aware of being laid back down and her face wiped again. Then there was a cool feeling spreading at the back of her throat and she slipped into sleep once more.

 

He hadn’t really been paying much attention to what the doctor said, even when Chad gave his short rundown of the minutes before Sonny had been thrown. He was far too busy staring at Sonny and trying to convince himself that she was really awake and would, soon, be completely well. It was like his mind was running automatic up until the doctor mentioned that she would probably never remember the accident.

After that his brain broke a little and Chad found himself being hauled out of the room almost bodily by, of all people, Tawni and Grady. Who would ever have thought little chubby Grady would ever grow up to be so strong?

Chad hadn’t, and the forcible removal managed to short circuit his mouth before he could start demanding answers from the doctor and probably making a very large, very embarrassing scene. He had no right to demand answers in _anyone’s_ eyes but his own. And maybe Owen’s. Not Tawni’s, even though she’d unbent enough to let him sit with Sonny, or the rest of the Randoms, even if they followed her lead. And probably not little Lucy’s either, thought she was no longer glaring balefully at him when he was present.

It was just… knowing that something was now missing from Sonny’s memory… The genuine terror of not knowing how much was missing. God, if she didn’t remember their time together! It would kill him. Even with the way it ended, if she never remembered him loving her, he’d go mad with it.

“Did you hear what he said?” Chad asked wildly, not even trying to fight to get back in the room. “Did you hear him say she won’t remember?”

The sympathy he saw in Tawni’s eyes hurt, because it only cemented in his mind that he was right. Sonny didn’t remember more. Tawni knew somehow, and apparently Grady, too. He wrenched himself away from the two and slammed himself into the wall behind him. He breathed harshly for a moment before turning and sliding until his face was buried against his knees, fingers clutching to try and keep the tears at bay.

She didn’t remember him. Not like he wanted her to, bad times included. He was back to square one—the last words he ever said to her were the cruelest he’d ever spoken. And now there was nothing left in the script to force the intimacy that broke them through before.

He’d lost his chance.

He ignored it when Grady came to lean against the wall on one side, ignored it when Tawni dropped to sit beside him and laid a comforting arm across his shoulders. Ignored everything, because there was nothing left.

However much time passed Chad never knew. And when the door opened again and closed, he ignored that too. At least until Owen hauled him up bodily and gave him such a frown that Chad actually flinched away from his best friend.

“Chad Cooper,” he started, green eyes flickering angrily. “I never thought I’d have to say this to you, of all people, but get a damned grip.”

He flinched again, this time looking away. “Didn’t you hear? She doesn’t remember.” Chad couldn’t hear how broken he sounded, and wouldn’t have cared if he did. His world was falling apart—nothing could matter after that.

“Don’t be a bleeding moron!” Owen spat, shaking Chad by the shoulders. Chad knocked into Tawni but barely registered it for Owen’s anger. “Just because she won’t remember the accident doesn’t mean she remembers nothing!”

“You didn’t see how she looked at me when she first woke up,” Chad whispered. Owen let go of him, his shirt still bunched where Owen’s hands had fisted in the material. Chad turned back to the wall, content to just let his face rest against it, eyes closed.

She wasn’t at all happy to see you is all. If you’d stayed quiet you would have been able to listen to the lecture I was just treated to,” Owen said matter of factly. “It’s _normal_ to lose memory of specific trauma. She doesn’t remember the accident. _Just_ the accident, so she’s not lost her whole memory.”

Owen paused and Chad glanced at him, trying to kill the faint hope that was rising, and the smidge of humiliation that came with it.

“She remembers you, if I know Allison at all. She remembers exactly why she’s so angry with you.” Owen sighed and stepped back as Chad straightened infinitesimally. He continued in a softer tone. “Don’t be stupid, Coop. The Allison in there still knows you, and still loves you. I’ll swear it on my life.”

Behind him the door opened again, a single pair of footsteps coming to stop at them. Chad turned to see the doctor watching him with more sympathy than he’d seen the man look at him with since Sonny had been brought in. when Tawni and Grady slipped back in, closing the door behind them, Chad straightened and swallowed what pride he had left.

“I’m sorry for yelling,” he said, hoping that he hadn’t done anything to hurt Sonny when he did. She’d been sick again, he knew that. But anything else was beyond him now.

The doctor nodded slightly. “We had to sedate her.” When Chad would have spoken and taken full blame the doctor raised a hand and stopped him. “We would have anyway; she’s still very injured. But she will recover completely. Mr. Reynolds spoke with me.”

Both of them glanced at Owen, but Owen didn’t say anything. Even his face was unreadable.

“I misjudged you before, and for that _I’m_ sorry.” The doctor glanced again at Owen and Chad swore he saw a faint smirk on his friend’s face. “She’ll be fine. The only memory that seems to be affected is that of the accident, which is absolutely normal under these circumstances. Now,” and now the doctor smiled a little, “if you can give your word not to disturb or upset her when she wakes, you can go back in and sit with her.”

Chad nodded, trying not to look as eager as a puppy. “Promise,” he managed before darting past the doctor and into the room. Tawni and Grady were both there on the far side of the bed. Sonny was pale and still bandaged around the head, but Chad ignored it.

On the near side of her bed was a single empty chair. Tawni and Grady had left it for him. It hurt a little, to be so grateful. Chad ignored it in lieu of saying, heartfelt, “Thank you.”

 

He was the only one left when she actually woke up again, but this time Chad was awake and took the chance it afforded him to watch Sonny as she came back to the world. Her face was twisted in a grimace, but he did catch the movement of her hand where it was still wrapped around the morphine button. The room was silent for many minutes until the drug apparently took effect, the pain lines in her face smoothing until she looked more comfortable.

This time, too, she didn’t look around immediately on being able to, just stared at the ceiling. Chad breathed shallowly, fearful of breaking the silence even with his breathing. The last time she’d seen him first thing on waking she’d been ill. He didn’t want that again.

Logically he knew it hadn’t been him that caused it, technically, but the motion of her fractured skull as she recoiled. But that still made his fault, if only a little. And he wanted nothing more than never to hurt her again.

The clock went around nearly a full turn before she finally moved her head, her eyes shifting right with it and directly at him.

Her voice was still hoarse when she asked, “What are you doing here.”

Oh, it hurt. She sounded, even through the scratchiness in her throat, as if he were the last person she ever wanted to see. He was quiet as he got to his feet and reached for the glass and pitcher next to the bed. He stayed quiet as he poured a drink and dropped in the straw. “For your throat,” he said as he offered it to her, holding it as she grudgingly sipped.

When she spoke again she sounded much more like herself.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was sitting with you until you woke up,” he told her as he sat again, glass of water still in hand. “Tawni and Grady had to go back to the hotel. Zora and Lucy are getting breakfast. Nico is currently grilling Owen about the movie, because Owen refuses to say anything.”

She smiled faintly at that, but it was gone as quickly as it came, her pretty mouth frowning at him. “Well, I’m awake. You can go.”

“Sonny—”

“Don’t call me that. Don’t call me anything.”

Chad swallowed at the hardness in her voice. “I deserve that, I know.” Knowing that she still thought he was the one who’d outed them to the press, he couldn’t blame her. It still hurt. “I needed to talk to you.”

She turned her face away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Chad. Not now. Not ever.”

“But—”

“No!” The machine that monitored her heart beeped a little faster, and Chad sat up straighter, alarmed. Nothing else shrilled as she continued. “How can you even think that you deserve to talk to me again after what happened?”

He bit his lip. Chad wanted to just blurt it out, wanted to just tell her it was Jennifer, that the girl had admitted it to Owen. That it wasn’t his fault. But he had no real proof. Owen was his best friend; of course Sonny would assume that Owen was taking his side. Maybe just out of friendship, maybe to keep the movie from being ruined this close to the end of filming.

She couldn’t know that it was probably already going to be scrapped because of the accident. The wee hours of the morning had been a painful conversation about that with Owen. They couldn’t afford to wait till she was healed to finish; they had employees to pay and had already stretched the budget to the breaking limit.

He shook his head. He wouldn’t say anything about that to her. She’d take it better from Owen.

“Am I never to get the chance to speak to you again?” he asked instead, hoping that she might relent a little, be willing to bend in the future.

She snorted a little. “I’ll speak to you in front of the camera. That’s all you deserve from me.”

It was poor luck and pessimism that had him expecting it. It hurt less that way. “Is that what you really want?” One last ditch effort, an effort that he had absolutely no confidence in.

“From you? That’s all I want,” was her cold reply.

He swallowed again, standing and reaching to sit the glass on the bedside table. “If that’s what you want.” He turned and walked softly to the door, still careful to make as little noise as possible. His hand was on the knob when she said his name.

“Chad?”

He stopped but didn’t turn. He heard the slight shift of linen, knew that she was looking straight at him. He squared his shoulders under her gaze and didn’t move, didn’t say anything.

“Do you remember what you said to me at the Emmy’s?” she asked, her voice painfully neutral.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The silence stretched out for long seconds.

“This… What you did.” She stopped; he could hear tears in her voice. “This hurt so much more. I was in love with you. And you betrayed my trust.”

It hit him harder than anything else she might have said. She’d loved. She was in love with him. Was. Past tense. She had loved him, and didn’t anymore. It would have taken a stronger man than he was to stop the tears that were coming.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and let himself quietly out the door.


	19. Chapter 19

She was a nice girl, Jennifer rationalized to herself as she sat on the end of the hotel bed. She never meant to cause trouble, it just sort of happened. It wasn’t her fault, not any of it. A string of bad luck that had lasted years. Now if only she believed it.

She’d been responsible for her fair share of mayhem, mostly because she didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut. She talked. She liked to talk, and had never really learned to keep her mouth shut. She’d actually been fired from three jobs because she gossiped, and once because of what she gossiped. She should have known by now not to gossip.

She just couldn’t help herself.

And while before it had been generally easy to fix (usually by her getting fired) she couldn’t see an easy fix now. Owen had come by days ago wanting to know why she was still here, making sure she knew that he and the film budget weren’t going to stretch to cover her room anymore. She didn’t care, she wanted to make what she had done wrong, right.

Coop had come by not long after Owen’s single visit. He had terrified her, standing there in the doorway, glaring death in his eyes. She didn’t know what would have happened if Owen hadn’t magically appeared and actually dragged Coop away.

She’d been very careful since then to make sure Coop wasn’t around whenever she ventured out of the hotel room. She was still afraid of what he might do to her.

It had only made her that much more sure that she needed to fix this.

She knew Allison was awake. She knew that she was getting better, that she had a steady stream of visitors. Sometime in the early hours of the morning as Jennifer lay on her rented bed, she had decided that she needed to be one of them, that she needed to go and tell Allison what happened.

She needed to take the blame for what she’d done. She needed to make sure that Allison knew Chad Cooper had _nothing_ to do with it. And she really needed to stop talking so much, or one day she’d actually get hurt for doing it.

As she picked up her coat and put it on, Jennifer wasn’t entirely sure that she still wasn’t going to get hurt for this one. She would be very careful indeed in her quest to _fix it_.

 

Sonny was actually happier than she’d been since the first time she’d woke up in the strange hospital room. The latest MRI showed that any swelling that had been in her brain was gone, and the X-rays only reinforced the fact that the fracture was knitting already. If she kept doing what everyone else told her to do, she might get to go home within a week. Well, to Tawni’s hotel room, since the girl had insisted. And then, after a bit more bed rest, she’d get to finish the damned movie and go back to New York, and far away from Chad Dylan Cooper.

Tawni was staying till then so she could fly back with her after filming was finished, and everyone else was going to stay at least until after she got out of the hospital. If not longer. Sonny had the nagging feeling that they would stay longer, which was fine with her, even if Grady and Lucy seemed to be spending too much time together for comfort.

She was alone for the time being though, something that Sonny was immensely grateful for. As much as she loved her friends, comedy ran too thickly in all of their blood. Hers included, she thought with a smile. But her healing head could only take so many repressed laughs before she couldn’t help actually laughing, and that invariably made her head hurt so badly that she wished she had her handy little morphine button back. The evil doctor had taken that away yesterday. She didn’t think she was going to ever forgive him.

She was allowed to sit up now, and took advantage of that to read one of the trashy romance novels Tawni had brought her. She would rather have had something with a little more meat, but Tawni insisted that she needed something ‘light’ which apparently meant plotless and filled with sex. Then again, Tawni thought that Nora Roberts was heavy reading.

God, she loved her friends.

She was halfway through the first book she’d tried, picked at random, and Sonny was ready to drop it in the trash. No substance, no real style. Nothing to distract her, really, from the monotony of the hospital room. Naturally when the door opened Sonny greeted it with all smiles.

“Jennifer!” She latched onto the familiar face, enthusiastic for a new person to amuse her. And, major bonus, Jennifer didn’t really spend her time amusing other people with jokes and funny anecdotes. Just what the doctor ordered. Or Sonny, at any rate.

“Hi, Sonny,” the girl offered with a weak smile. “Can I come in?”

She caught herself before she nodded, still wary of any real head movement that might still hurt her in new and especially painful ways. “Yeah, sure, please. Save me from the bad book.”

“Bad book?” was the question as Jennifer let herself in and sat gingerly on the chair at Sonny’s bedside.

“Tawni decided that trashy romance novels were the best way to spend my time here,” Sonny offered with a grimace. “It’s terrible. Do you have any better reading material in your bad?”

“Ah, no,” was the feeble response.

Sonny sighed in dismay, an exaggerated comical effort that was almost second nature. “Well, you’re visiting. So that’s something. New face, new gossip.”

The girl winced and Sonny watched her curiously. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something like that.”

“Did Owen get a girlfriend?” Sonny deadpanned, trying to break the fearful way Jennifer was talking to her.

“It’s about Coop, actually.”

Sonny froze in her bed, mouth open already about to make a comment to Jennifer’s expected answer. That she wanted to talk about Chad was unexpected. Completely. And even more unwelcome. “I don’t want to talk about, if it’s all the same,” Sonny managed in a tight voice.

“But I have to fix this!” Jennifer said desperately, her fingers clutched tightly around her purse until her knuckles were white and Sonny thought they might burst their skin.

“You can’t fix it,” Sonny said, voice a little more gentle. “Chad did this, and even he can’t fix it.”

Jennifer’s face screwed up, as if she’d swallowed glass or sat on nails. “I _can_ , actually.”

Sonny just stared at her. There really wasn’t anything that she could think to say.

“I know you think you hate him,” Jennifer started. Sonny wanted to correct her, she didn’t think she hated him. If she did actually hate him, she knew she did.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Actually, I think I have every right to—”

“I told the press.”

Sonny’s mouth dropped open and for a moment she forgot how to think. The thought that Chad hadn’t actually done anything could barely process, even with Jennifer sitting right in front of her telling her otherwise. For a moment it crossed her mind that Chad might have put her up to it, convinced her or paid her to take the blame. It would be so like Chad _Dylan_ Cooper. And so unlike the Chad she’d gotten to know since she’d come to England.

Jennifer took the silence as a chance to speak again, and Sonny felt sicker with each word.

“I thought that maybe you and Owen would make a go of it, because he really liked you at first. But then I saw you and Coop together, and it was just like a movie. You were so mean to each other, but you still looked at each other.” She paused, gathering breath, and Sonny still couldn’t speak. “You started disappearing together and stopped fighting so much. I sort of guessed at first, until I saw you two walking to his flat one day. You were so… in love.”

Sonny breathed in painfully, blinking, trying to will the sickness away.

“I just—it was such a little fairytale thing. And then the reporter was coming around set trying to get something on the movie. But Owen would have killed anyone who talked about it.”

Oh god. The heat rising in the back of her throat was making goose bumps dance across her skin.

“So I thought if maybe I told them how wonderful you two were together, it would be alright. Good publicity and all, because we needed some.”

She hated throwing up; she hadn’t done it in days. She was going to. Everything Jennifer was saying was just making it worse. So much worse. Oh god, the things she had said to him—

“So I told him that you and Cooper were having an affair. I thought it was harmless.”

Jennifer was actually crying now, and the realization that the other girl was made Sonny realize that not all of the heat in her face had to do with her need to be sick. She was crying, too. Big tears welling and just slipping right over. Did this girl even know what she’d done? Did she _know_ what she’d _done_?

“I didn’t know until the articles were published that you two had a history. A bad history. And I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry.”

“Sorry?” Sonny choked out, half thinking that she’d be sick as she spoke. “Get out.”

“Allison,” Jennifer tried.

Sonny cut her off, the tears coming harder as her hand raised. As if she would slap Jennifer, as if she would hit the girl who’d done this, who’d ruined her and Chad, because there was no way for her to fix the things _she’d_ said. Her voice was strangled when the order came again, foreign across her lips. “Get out. Get out, get out, get out!”

She didn’t watch as the girl darted from the room, only vaguely heard the door closing hard behind her. Sonny was too busy reaching for the pan they’d left with her in case she needed to be sick again. And she was, painfully, violently sick. Her head ached before the first retch came, but it was nothing compared to how she felt knowing the things that she’d said to Chad. And he’d taken them.

She retched again as she realized he’d known. He may not have at first—and Sonny had no doubt that he hadn’t—but he’d known the last time she’d seen him. The awful dark knowledge she’d seen in his eyes, written on his face. She’d thought it was because he’d done it, he’d said it, he’d ruined them. But she knew better now, knew that he’d known who really had talked.

And she’d said such cruel things.

And it _hurt_.

Her mouth tasted absolutely foul when she finished, but she was crying too hard to try and rinse it out. Nothing could fix it now, it didn’t matter than her head felt like it would split apart, that her body screamed at her where her ribs were still mending, that she was injured and in the hospital. Nothing could compare at all to the way her heart was breaking.

Truly, no one could hurt anyone as much as those one loved best. And she’d hurt both of them so badly.

And she had to fix it.

Sonny didn’t give it any further thought as she pushed the messy pan away, then reached to put it back on the table she’d grabbed it from. Her hands were cold when she reached inside the hospital gown, the terrible book falling off the side of the bed to the floor as she stared tugging at the wires. The sticky pads didn’t come off, but the wires did where they attached. The machine at her bedside started making a flat, monotonous sound, and Sonny ignored that, too.

The IV would be a little more difficult to get rid of, since it was run into her vein. There had to be something to staunch the flow of blood that would come when she pulled it out. The box of Kleenex on the other table would do nicely, and Sonny grabbed a handful and dropped the wad of tissue onto her lap. The prized up the tape that held the tubing to her arm, then the tape that held the IV to the insertion site.

She gave the first pull hesitantly, not sure if it would hurt. It didn’t, but felt decidedly strange. She could see the tube inside the vein moving down her arm as she pulled again. She’d just gotten it out when the door opened and her head darted up, eyes furtive as she realized that someone could stop her before she could make her escape to find Chad.

“What the hell are you doing, Sonny?” Nico nearly screamed. The door was left open as he rushed to the bedside.

Blood was trickling down her arm but Sonny ignored it as she tried to stop him from stopping her. “I have to go talk to Chad,” she insisted, trying to push him away.

“Are you insane?” he snapped at her as he picked up the edge of her blanket and held it tightly to her arm. “God, what were you thinking?”

“I have to talk to Chad,” she said again, and this time the tears came helplessly. “I have to fix it.”

“What’s going on?”

Sonny didn’t even look up as Zora and Lucy came in, obviously in a rush. They must have heard Nico. She tried again, pleading. “I have to find Chad.”

This time the entrance was two nurses rushing in, nearly shoving Zora and Lucy into the doorframe as they came. The machine, Sonny realized. She should have known, unhooked them last. She might have made it out if she had. It didn’t matter what happened to her—she _had_ to talk to Chad. She had to explain, apologize, make it right. Make him understand. Make him give her, give them another chance.

“What’s happened?” the first nurse asked as she came alongside Nico. Sonny just shook her head as Nico continued pressing the sheet to her arm.

He explained it quickly. “No idea, but she pulled the IV.”

Gentle hands were pushing her back but Sonny tried to fight them off. The effort made her feel weak, she wasn’t strong enough yet to do much against one person, much less the three who were forcing her back. “Stop,” she demanded a little hysterical. “Stop. Let me up, let me out. I have to go.”

“You’ll not be going anywhere, Miss Monroe,” one of them said to her as strong fingers took over from Nico and expertly applied pressure to the IV site. “You’ve still got a fractured skull, and you’re in no shape to be up and about.”

“But I have to! I have to find Chad!” This time it wasn’t a little hysterical. It was a lot.

“Get the doctor,” was said over her head, but Sonny couldn’t understand it though everything else. She hurt, she felt so sick, and so broken. Even worse than when she’d thought Chad had betrayed her. Them.

She pushed up again, and this time the hands pushing her down won out, the last of her meager strength leaving her. Sonny cried. She lay there and sobbed helplessly. They wouldn’t let her go, and if they didn’t let her then she’d never get to talk to him. She was too much in shock to think far enough ahead to know that the movie was unfinished, that she would undoubtedly get the chance. And if that failed, she knew where he lived and Owen would almost certainly help her talk to Chad, just as he’d helped her avoid him.

It wasn’t fair. It was not fair, not at all.

“She’s hysterical, we’ll have to sedate her again before she does herself injury.” This, Sonny heard. She tried to protest, but couldn’t find her voice through the tears. A part of her knew that they were right, but most of her was still desperate to find Chad and fix it all if it could be at all fixed.

With no IV for easy access the prick of the needle in her unblemished arm was even sharper than she could have expected. “Please, no,” she got out on a whimpered moan. Her voice failed her after that as the cold feeling spread again through her throat, the muzziness that the drugs drove her into seeped through her brain.

Dark pleading eyes were wide and wild as she gave up the struggle, darkness seeping along the edges of her vision. It was pure irony that the last thing she saw was Zora and Lucy appearing once more at the door—she hadn’t even known they’d left—with Chad following closely behind.

 

This time when Sonny woke it was to pain. Nothing physical, thank god. She had enough presence of mind to realize that the pain she felt was purely mental. It only took a second for what had happened to come rushing back to her. Tears pricked her eyes, spilled over to roll down her temples. Hadn’t she already done this? All of this?

She turned her head to the side, looking for Chad. He’d been there the last time she’d woke like this. He wasn’t there now, the faint hope shattering her into a million jagged little pieces. She turned her head again, and fought the urge to gag.

“Oh god,” she moaned. “Please, not in my room. Out! Out!”

Grady and Lucy jerked apart, or at least as far apart as they could get considering her best friend was on her other friend’s lap. Any other time the red that was spreading across both of their faces would have made her laugh. Now it just kind of was, because Sonny wasn’t sure that she could possibly laugh ever again.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Grady started.

Sonny smiled a little. “Right. It’s the new holistic approach to dental work.”

The startled laugh that came from Lucy actually made Sonny smile a little more, even if it hurt to do it. when Lucy clapped her hands over her mouth and dismay rolled down her face Sonny did manage a small chuckle, tiny though it was. The hands came down but Lucy made no move to shift from Grady’s lap. “Are you… okay?” she asked hesitantly.

Sonny lay there quietly for a moment, before rolling to one side a little. One arm was bandaged where her IV had been, the other now had a new IV. Her head hurt awfully, and her ribs weren’t too very far behind. She sighed a little. “Yes,” she finally said. “I’m sorry I caused such a mess before.”

Grady nodded and his lips curved slightly. He leaned forward and murmured something in Lucy’s ear, and she slid from his lap to let him up. Sonny didn’t turn to watch him leave, just watched Lucy as she pulled the chair closer and sat again, reaching her hand out to hold one of Sonny’s tightly enough to hurt. But this? This was a good hurt, and Sonny appreciated it regardless of the little pain it caused.

“You scared me,” Lucy whispered. Sonny sighed again, because she couldn’t help but feel terrible for it. She’d already scared all of her friends to death, though it was no fault of her own. Now she’d done it again. “You scared all of us. You’re not going to try to make a break for it?”

There was levity there. Sonny squeezed Lucy’s hand. “No, I’m not. I’m sorry I tried before. I just…”

“You weren’t in your right mind. I know,” Lucy offered. Sonny nodded. “What happened?”

Sonny mulled it over for a moment, debating internally over whether or not she could say it without breaking down, or just breaking. She didn’t really have anything to gauge it by, but figured that trying would be the best answer. “Someone from the set came to talk to me. She told me that Chad never talked to the press. That she did.” Tears welled now, but Sonny was still firmly in control of herself, something she was eternally grateful for. She hated to think where they’d put the next IV if she went nuts and pulled the new one out, too.

Lucy only nodded. “That makes sense.”

“You’re not surprised,” Sonny said, observing her best friend carefully. She expected it when Lucy shook her head. “Did she talk to you, too?” Sonny asked, curiously.

Lucy hesitated, and then shook her head again. “No. Tawni overheard Owen chewing the girl out. She told us days ago. We just… We thought it would be better for you to get better before anyone told you.”

“Yeah,” Sonny said, chagrined. “I didn’t handle it too well.”

“I would say not,” was the dry retort.

“I’m sorry,” Sonny offered again, wishing that she could do something more.

Lucy shrugged. “I’m just glad that you know, and that you’re going to be alright.”

A knock on the door interrupted whatever Lucy might have said next, and Sonny jerked a little, pain welling once more but quickly fading into the general background noise that her body was. Then Lucy rose and Sonny turned to find Chad standing in the doorway. He looked… She’d never seen him look so bad before. His clothes were rumpled, he had circles under his eyes, and his hair looked like someone had styled it with a weed whacker. If she could have laughed, Sonny would have.

But her heart was turning over in a painful flop, and her stomach wasn’t far behind. For a moment Sonny thought she might be sick again, but it settled, and this time the pain that rose wasn’t anything that her body was causing.

There was only thing she could say, in a painful, hopeful little voice.

“Chad.”


	20. Chapter 20

She looked so pitiful. It was the first thing that came to mind. The second was that she must have been completely out of her mind to think that she could just unplug herself and walk out of the hospital. The third was that she obviously had been. And the fourth was how very much he loved her, because the first thing she’d done when she’d found out—and he could only assume somehow she’d learned the truth—was to try to get to him. He’d never loved her more than he did this exact moment.

The way she said his name when she looked at him was painful, and wonderful. Chad paid Lucy no mind as she walked past him and out the door, only closed it without looking, his hand searching for a moment till it found the lock and flipped it over. If anyone bothered them right now he would _not_ be responsible for what he did to them.

It would be exotically painful, perhaps reminiscent of the Spanish Inquisition. Or maybe one of those Chinese torture methods: long and excruciating. And he would probably enjoy it very, very much.

He approached her slowly, knowing full well that she might take it as a bad sign, but half afraid to rush at her and hold her like he wanted to. The look on her face told him that she was taking it exactly that way, but he still held himself back. She was still hurt, and he was—he wasn’t sure he could not hurt her anymore if he touched her, because all he wanted to do was kiss her like there would be no tomorrow, like the next moment would never come and he had to give everything that was him to her so that she would know before the world was gone.

The chair scraped as he brought it closer to her bed, disdaining the walk to the other side and the chair that was already there. Then he sat, and watched her, memorizing her face, the glitter of tears in her eyes, the tension around her mouth, the bruising that was barely evident at her hairline alongside the one temple. She was so. Fucking. Beautiful.

She swallowed. “Did they tell you?”

He nodded. “If they hadn’t I might have hurt someone.” He was proud of himself for keeping his voice so neutral. He thought, he hoped that they could forgive each other. But there was a part of himself that wasn’t sure, so much hurt had happened. That part held the rest of him in check. It was so easy to hope, and hope made it too easy to be hurt again. He didn’t think he could take that. It wouldn’t just break him; it would kill him.

She took a breath in and when it caught in her throat, hitching painfully in his ears, Chad couldn’t stop himself from starting to reach a hand out to her. When he paused her face feel. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry, Chad, I’m so sorry.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, all the remembered pain washing over him in that split second. “You didn’t trust me,” he said softly, opening his eyes. “Why?”

“I… I-I can’t…” she stumbled over her words, but Chad waited.

He did actually want to hear what she would say. He had an idea, but he had to hear it from her first. There was a piece of him that needed that, that needed to understand why she would just assume he was the bad guy, untrustworthy, worthless, any one of a hundred derogatory things that he’d accused himself of in the weeks since it had happened.

But he could offer her something to help her say it.

“I don’t hate you, Sonny,” he murmured softly. “I won’t hate you no matter what you say. I promise.”

Tears spilled down her cheeks. It took a herculean effort not to reach for her, to brush them away, to kiss her until she forgot how to cry. The words were true enough. Weeks apart had forced him to remember every single thing he’d ever done to her, to her friends, god, to people she didn’t even know. His track record spoke for itself. It still hurt viciously that she’d distrusted him so easily, but there was something in him that couldn’t blame her, not entirely.

“You say it so easily,” she told him softly, turning her face away and raising a hand to wipe at her eyes.

He bit back a pained laugh, settling for a snorting sound that made him feel like he was choking. “If it were just words it wouldn’t be so hard,” he said.

“You still said them.” He shrugged as she turned to face him, not wanting to explain himself. Not now, at least. He needed to hear her first, to know that she would listen when he spoke. Maybe after that they could… Not go back. No, they could never go back. But try again.

“I’m sorry,” she finally said, still not looking at him. He wondered what, exactly, she was sorry for – his cynical side popping out screaming for a moment – but ultimately decided to remain silent.

Her fingers started to worry at the edge of her sheet, flicking the fabric back and forth and finding a loose thread of twisting it with her nerves. “I’m not going to ask you to look at it from my point of view,” she continued, her voice soft and mostly steady. She’d been thinking about it, Chad realized. About what she would say to him, and how she would say it.

“I should have trusted you more. Or at least listened,” came the hesitant afterthought. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“But?” he asked when she fell silent. It was the only invitation he would give her to say it all, to say every damned thing that had driven her. It was the only chance he would have, probably, to see exactly why she had done what she’d done. He actually wanted her to tell him, desperately even.

She turned to him, lip between her teeth as she worried at it. “But nothing. I was wrong. I messed up. I messed _us_ up,” she admitted slowly as her eyes lowered again.

Chad wasn’t sure what to say to that. On one hand he wanted her to just talk to him, and on the other he wanted her to stop so they could just— Just what? They could move on? What would that be? Separate lives, never seeing each other again, or trying to come back from the mess that they were now?

After a moment Chad shook himself visibly, feeling his face pale a little as he realized what he was doing. He was doing the same thing that Sonny had done; taking everything she said at face value and running with it, basing his reactions on what should be, what needed to be history. Just reacting, instead of thinking, or feeling, or talking to her.

“It was like going back in time to when we were kids, and to the things that happened then,” Sonny was continuing on as Chad barely heard her.

“Stop.” The word was harsh, cutting across the flow of whatever she had been saying. He didn’t know the exact words, but he knew the idea. And he didn’t want to hear it, didn’t need to.

Her face fell as he looked at her, dark eyes shuttering and her body seeming to crumple inward as she shrank back into the raised bed. That was bad enough, but the resignation and acceptance that Chad had seen as she did so nearly killed him. Five minutes ago, five _seconds_ ago, he might have enjoyed it just a little. Just revenge for the way she had treated and discarded him.

Now it just made him sick.

“Sonny,” he said, his eyes finding hers and holding them. “You remember everything I did to you, right? All for vanity,” he murmured, leaning forward and rubbing a hand across tired eyes as she nodded. “Because I couldn’t stand competition, because I didn’t know how to be second best at anything.”

“Chad, you—”

“No,” he cut her off with a motion. “No, Sonny. Don’t say anything. You remember all of the times I ever fucked things up for you and the Randoms. Well, I remember all of the things you never knew about.”

Her eyes widened into black pools of surprise as Sonny practically choked on her tongue, trying to come up with a response. Chad smirked a little and shook his head at her. “No, I’m not going to tell you about it. It was years ago and, believe it or not, I’ve done my best to make up for most of the crap I pulled.”

Her brow furrowed as she watched him, obviously unsure of what she wanted to say or do. There wouldn’t be an argument, of that Chad was certain. But he was ready to be done with all of it. He understood it, what Sonny had done. He’d nearly fallen prey to it himself. And he was ready to let it go. He sighed and reached a hand out to hers, careful not to touch the IV that was run into the back of it. his fingers twined with hers as he lifted their hands together, his other coming to trace the lines of her slender fingers as he realized how much he liked the sight of their hands, together.

“I want to be done with it, sunshine,” he said softly. When he heard the gasp, he darted his eyes back up to hers, the urgent denial on his tongue because he knew he hadn’t been clear enough. “Not you, Sonny. Never you,” he told her hastily. “Just this whole fucked up mess.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, or for an invitation. Chad leaned forward until he was barely on the chair, bringing his mouth to hers in a greedy kiss. He’d spent weeks missing her kisses, and if she wasn’t ready or up for anything else, he would at get at least one really good kiss. Chad didn’t realize that some part of him, be it ever so small, had doubted that she would still be his until her mouth softened beneath his and she kissed him in return. It was invitation enough for Chad as he moved from chair to bed without ever breaking the kiss, pulling her closer carefully though he was mindful of her injuries.

It was several long, heady moments before Sonny finally pulled away from him, her eyes still closed and her forehead resting against his.

“We can’t pretend it never happened,” she whispered.

“No, we can’t,” he agreed, lips brushing hers again. “But we can put it in the past where it belongs.”

“Oh, I’d like that,” she whispered. “I’d really like that, Chad.”

“Me too, sunshine.” He started to lean in to kiss her again when three sharp raps on the door startled them both back as if they were guilty teenagers. Sonny flushed bright red and Chad started chuckling as he felt the heat rising in his own face.

“Chad Cooper, open this door right now before I have someone break it down.”

Sonny winced a little but laughed at it. “That’s Tawni for you,” she said as Chad got up and went to unlock the door.

He pasted a faux apologetic face on as he opened it onto Tawni’s glaring face. But the smile playing at her lips made him sure that he wasn’t in for an earful from the blond later on. Well, at least about locking everyone while he and Sonny talked. He was pretty sure he was in for a huge talk from all of Sonny’s friends.

“Tawni,” he greeted her as she breezed past him. He rolled his eyes at Sonny as he followed Tawni back into the room and retook his chair, getting a small laugh from her.

Tawni surveyed the room before eyeballing both of them, then smiled widely. “Well, no broken furniture. Can I assume you two have patched things up?”

Chad had to stop himself from rolling his eyes yet again, this time in irritation that Tawni would just so bluntly say it. Sonny, however, was far less annoyed with Tawni’s openness. And while she didn’t say as much, she looked so happy that it was hard to just not know that they had fixed things. Or at least, started fixing them, because Chad expected that they had a bit more work before they were completely better.

But for now, Sonny was smiling. “And we have a movie to finish, too.”

Now Chad chuckled. That was his Sonny, focused, eye on the ball, ready to… Wait a second, Chad told himself as tension sang through his body. She didn’t know that he and Owen had talked, that the budget was too far blown, that the movie was getting scrapped. And now he would have to be the one to tell her. This was going to put a serious damper on their reconciliation.

“Yeah, about that…” Chad started, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. There wasn’t really a delicate way to put it, so Chad decided that the band-aid approach was preferable. “The movie is—”

“You absolutely have a movie to finish,” Tawni interjected brightly, with a smirk and a wink at Chad. “Especially since I just invested in it.”

It was Chad’s turn to stare at her, completely wordless. Tawni Hart had just invested in his and Owen’s movie. For a split second he couldn’t comprehend it, it was so surprising. Then the wheels in his mind turned over once, then twice, and Chad’s heart thumped to a stop as a smile so big that it hurt stretched across his face.

“Do you two know what this means?” he demanded, his excitement boiling over as his eyes darted back and forth between the two women, his hands clamped almost painfully around Sonny’s.

“No?” Sonny offered while Tawni just shrugged.

“You have a movie still?”

Chad shook his head slowly. “No, it’s way better. You have Chad Dylan Cooper with Sonny Monroe, already a huge publicity magnet.” He scowled for a moment before pointing at Tawni. “And now Tawni Hart has invested in the movie. This is like… Publicity from _God_.”

For a moment the two women stared at him, and they burst out laughing. As far as Chad was concerned, all was right in his world.

 

Sonny twitched her fingers against the length of red satin draped across her knees. She was pressed up against Chad with her head on his shoulder as they read the article in the _L.A. Times_ for the fourth time since Owen had handed it to them that afternoon. The private screening of the movie had gone very, very well according to the article, and Sonny was actually looking forward to the furor of the premiere.

Chad was chuckling next to her. “This is my favorite part,” and he pointed at the second paragraph as he read it aloud. “’New old comer Allison ‘Sonny’ Monroe was magnificent, effortlessly pulling emotions to the front and giving a thrilling performance.’”

Sonny flushed a little with pleasure at it. “I like the part where they say you went from Hollywood heartthrob to bona fide actor,” she admitted. “It’s going to open so many doors for you.”

“I’m pretty sure that every door we could want has been opened by now,” Chad admitted as he pressed a kiss to her ear.

Sonny frowned a little. “I hate giving any credit for it to Jennifer,” she admitted. Even though everything that had happened was a good eight months in the past, Sonny still found it easier to just try and ignore that it had ever happened.

“Hey,” Chad said as he turned to look at her. “You don’t have to give her any credit. The reviews had nothing to do with publicity—it’s the film.”

“But still.”

“Publicity is for the masses, and they would have come the second our names were on the marquee.”

She snorted and shifted her skirt again, suppressing the urge to adjust the top of the dress. “You say that now.”

He pressed a kiss to her lips, and Sonny smiled as she wiped lipstick from his. “I said it then, at least to Owen. I knew, at least a little, how the papers would jump on the two of us working together. When it finally came out,” he amended.

She hmm’d. “It just came out a little sooner than planned, then?”

“Something like that.”

The limo slowed and Sonny leaned forward, looking past Chad and out the tinted window. There were huge crowds already gathered around the red carpet, and a healthy dose of press as well. She knew that Chad and Owen had pulled strings and made deals to get them the Kodak Theater for the premiere, but it was, as they put it, an investment. The returns on ticket sales were forecast to be more than enough to make up the difference on that, on the film budget, on their investments, on everything. Pre-sales had already made them the anticipated number one of opening weekend.

She still had a hard time thinking that she was about to become a real, proper actress. Not that she wasn’t already, as Chad had assured her more than once. He’d brought up the Emmy every time he did. But that was different when faced with maybe being the stars of _the_ summer movie.

It was impossible not to admit that she was scared. And excited.

“Are you ready for this, sunshine?” he asked as he adjusted the flower he’d tucked into her hair before the limo had picked them up. She nodded, trying not to feel pathetically eager. Chad had seen the movie already since he’d been working with Owen finishing it. She hadn’t.

She smiled in the face of the tiny apprehension she still had. “Kind of late not to be, don’t you think?”

He murmured an agreement. “This is going to change everything, you know.”

And she did. But she was ready. When the limo pulled to a stop and the door was opened, Chad slid out and Sonny paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. Then Chad’s hand reached in and she took it, letting him help her out, her red dress falling around her in simple lines as they faced the press together. She was ready.

She kind of had to be. The first hue and cry were demands of what designer she was wearing, were they excited about the premiere and the rave reviews they’d already gotten. But the second—Oh, the second. Sonny smiled brightly at everyone, nothing bringing her down, because the second thing everyone noticed was the diamond ring that Chad had given her just that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take this opportunity to dedicate this fic to my cousin Sara, who has been its staunchest supporter on and off . Happy 18th, kiddo. I'll work on those promised fics for you soon!


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the crappy fake movie that I had to come up with for them to film. Yes, it's cheesy.

THE MOVIE (No Title)

Opens with a young woman, ERIN, at her mother’s bedside, mother is obviously dying, and ERIN is stricken as her mother tells her, “I want you to take the money from the insurance policy and do something for yourself with it.” ERIN refuses, mother is insistent. “Oh, baby girl, you've given up so much to take care of me. I want you to go and do something for you. Take the money, so see Europe like you wanted to; rent a place in London and just live.” ERIN is crying as she gives her assent, fully acknowledging that her mother is going to die, and soon.

CUT to ERIN in London, who has rented a small apartment and is currently on her third day of wandering as she tries to figure out why her mother was so insistent that she waste twenty-five thousand dollars. This is when she forcibly bumps into the love interest, COLIN, finding herself on the ground with the bags he is carrying. It's attraction at first sight, and in apology COLIN offers to make her dinner. “But I'll have to go back to the shop,” he says mournfully, looking at now bruised and ruined eggplant. ERIN, flatter, accepts, though it's as much her fault as his. She will bring dessert.

Thus sparks a short but intense romance between the two, a montage scene of the time they spend together and the growing feelings they have for each other. COLIN has lived in London since he was 18 and embarks on a tour of his chosen home. Locations: the changing of the guard outside of Buckingham Palace; ERIN learning of COLIN'S ability on the piano during an impromptu song in a pub after which COLIN will explain that he came to Europe to ply his art but has since learned that piano is his passion and not something he wishes to make money from; Big Ben; Covent Gardens, Spitalfield Market, Harrods, the West End, the Arches, Trafalgar Square, Parliament, the London Eye. 

With the new intimate development, COLIN and ERIN are more than close. Strife comes when ERIN realizes that COLIN is hiding something, that he has begun having hours of unaccounted time every day and evades her questions about them. ERIN takes it upon herself to learn the truth and follows him one evening only to find him meeting with a very attractive woman ERIN'S own age and embracing her enthusiastically. ERIN leaves, assuming the worst.

Cue COLIN with mystery woman. He is extremely affectionate and very familiar with the woman invoking the assumption of a long term affair—up until the moment she asks him, “Colin, are you ever going to come home? Even if Mom and Dad are being serious jerks, I miss you.” She gives him a wry smile and finishes, “Besides, you're my favorite brother.” He musses her hair and returns, “I'm your only brother, kiddo.” Thus it begins to come out that COLIN comes from a very wealthy family that disowned him when he left the life plan to be a lawyer for the dream of making music.

The aftermath quickly takes over the script, heavy throughout but easily resolved. ERIN withdraws more and more, sure that COLIN is playing her, COLIN is blindsided by her sudden desire to pull away, and suggests that she come away with him. He has a friend who lives in Wales, and she agrees intending to confront him when he can't possibly run from the accusation. This leads to the riding accident that pulls the movie to a close, with a fox startling the horse that the inexperienced ERIN is riding and ERIN being thrown. “I know, Colin, I saw you with her!” And his exasperated denial at cheating pushing her to demand that he stop lying. The last words in the argument are COLIN'S as he shouts that the girl ERIN fears is his own sister. Then the horse is spooked and runs, and ERIN is thrown. 

There is guilt as COLIN waits in the emergency room for ERIN to wake, because he convinced her to ride with him, because he is the cause of the fight, because he promised to look out for her and he failed to keep that promise. He resolves that ERIN is better off without him and makes the decision to tell her to go back home to the States. However, upon being allowed in to see her, COLIN'S resolve crumples as ERIN confesses to him that she's so glad it's his sister; she doesn't want to ever think the man that she loves loves another. Mutual confessions of love and assurances of never leaving are exchanged.

The movie closes with ERIN and COLIN standing at a graveside and ERIN speaking, “Mom, this is Colin,” and dialogue trails off as camera spans back and goes aerial.


End file.
